Go Fish
by louisestrange
Summary: Jack and Ennis are reunited four years after Brokeback, but Ennis's conscience isn't all that gets in the way of Jack's plans.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This was first posted on LJ back in 2006 – I've only just started using this site so thought I'd upload it here for posterity. 10 parts in total.

Go Fish - Part One.

Side by side in Jack's old battered pick up; Jack humming along to something country jingle-jangling from the radio and Ennis in silence, staring out of the passenger window, seeing nothing at all.

"Why so quiet, Ennis? Thought you was pleased t'be going fishing with your ol' buddy again," Jack extended an elbow to prod him in the ribs as he said this, teasing him, playful as a kitten all morning and damn near as cute.

Ennis's lips curled upwards, more of a nervous twitch than a smile, then looked at him worriedly, "You know I am, s'just…"

"Sure seemed pleased to see me yest'rday, an' in that li'l motel bed last night," Jack licked his lips, looked sideways at him and continued, "Damn near broke my nose, way you grabbed holda me at your place, not that I'm complainin' much, but I gotta tell you, that ain't all you nearly broke." For effect, Jack arched his back, took one hand off the wheel and held it to his neck, squeezing a little and sucking in the air through gritted teeth. "Thinking last night I musta I rode you harder'n any o' them damn bulls when I was rodeoin'."

"Jack, don't be saying things like that here," Ennis said seriously, never being one who liked talking about such things, but couldn't stifle a tight-lipped grin, born of satisfaction and sweet, still-fresh memory.

"Here? We in a truck alone in the middle a goddamn nowhere friend, ain't no-one gonna hear us talkin' queer."

Ennis pulled his hat down a little, shielding his eyes from the too-bright morning sunlight and the big old green world as much as Jack's sideways glances, that word he'd said, and attempted to finish what he'd started to say before. "I jus'…don't you feel a li'l guilty? I mean, I sure's hell weren't thinkin' on Alma last night," he paused, that grin playing on his lips again in spite of himself, "but here, and now, I don't know. It ain't right Jack. I don't know if I should be goin' home insteada headin' on out here with you." With this he slunk in his seat a little, pulling his hat further down over his eyes, this time with the sole intention of avoiding a sudden bolt of thunder right there on Jack's face, forget the sun and green old world outside the pick-up.

He knew Jack well, least he felt he did, even four years on without a word between. Few months spent on Brokeback, just the two of them; so alone, so together, meant they'd spent more time in each other's company than most couples probably do in a lifetime of marriage. Told Jack things he couldn't ever tell Alma and figured he'd probably done the same. Hell, didn't even need words to do the telling half the time. Reunited for less than twenty-four hours though they were, Ennis knew Jack well enough to know he wouldn't take kindly to what had just been said. Night before, in that motel room they shared, first time in an actual bed together, first time out of the elements, they'd made up for four years worth of lost time and in more ways than one. After wordlessly reacquainting themselves, tasting and touching and just about re-enacting everything they'd done four years previous, then some, laying sticky-wet, sated, smoking, Jack had posed questions that he wanted answers to, and Ennis wasn't sure if they were questions he knew how to answer, or even what the answer might be. Jack had always seemed to know just what he wanted, but not Ennis. He fell into things by chance – the job at Brokeback that summer, this thing with Jack, his marriage to Alma, becoming a Daddy. Not one event in his life had been planned or even thought of before it happened. Ennis was not a man of great initiative - any he may have had, not that he remembers ever having much, was beat the hell out of him as a boy by his daddy and his older brother and whoever they were associated with at the time. Jack coming back to him like this, he'd dreamed about it, sure, but never made no move to find out where he may've been to do the finding himself.

Ennis eyed Jack with caution from under his hat again and saw his smile had gone; jaw set square and lips tight as duck's ass. This wasn't what he wanted; not to go back on what he'd already said to Jack, not to go back to Alma and the girls and have regrets about leaving Jack again, not to be wringing himself out with Jack's name on his lips, locked away in the half-tiled bathroom with his kids asleep in the next room, thinking what-ifs and if-onlys for the rest of his miserable life, but what else was there? Like he'd already told Jack, all he had time for now was making a living and that was that. Even if two men could set up home together, his bed was already made, and he had no choice but to lie in it, and lie in it with Alma. Four years had been rough, rougher to start with but damn, wasn't time supposed to be a great healer? He'd sure tried to do some healing in that time but Jack was like a scab he couldn't stop picking at.

"You want me to turn right on 'round, Ennis? That what you want?" Jack's hand gripped the sneering wheel white-knuckle tight and he fixed unblinking eyes on Ennis. He didn't rightly know – seemed it'd taken all this time to get over Brokeback, to get it into his head that it really was just a one-shot thing; it was the situation, the place, the isolation. Anything but the fact of the matter, which was that he'd spent the summer feeling all kinds of wrong things with another man, physical and then some, fell in some kind of love with him that summer and it'd never yet gone away, in spite of all the trying.

Times when he'd thought on Brokeback, on Jack and him and what they'd done and it wrenched at his insides like butcher'd set on him with a dull knife. Times like that, he'd needed to feel any pain but this kinda pain and so he'd gone out, looking for trouble, never hard to find, and at least when he was bruised up and bloody the ache was on the outside for a change.

"What about your wife and kid, huh, Jack?" Ennis pleaded understanding, aimlessly shifting his hat again, not sure what kinda weather he was facing now, sitting up a little in his seat, shifting under Jack's gaze.

"Hell, Ennis, what about 'em? What about me? I been missin' you all this time and here I am, thinkin' that last night'd meant that somethin's changed. We both tried that life now, friend, and seems it ain't right for neither one of us if we get to doin' what we did last night soon as look at each other."

"Maybes it was jus' somethin' for ol' times sake. I said Jack, it ain't gonna be that way, and this…headin' out together like this, talkin' on it being a regular thing like fool kids, that was whiskey talk." Ennis had started speaking louder and faster than he hardly ever did, his breath growing shallow and his throat croaking, voice breaking just a little. "This thing ain't doin' no-one no favours Jack, I told you…"

"What you done told me, Ennis," Jack interrupted, swerving the pick-up to avoid something on the road Ennis couldn't see, eyes back on the road for a split second, "is that you a damn stupid, cowardly son of a fuckin' bitch."

Ennis's voice softened again, "That ain't fair, Jack."

"Don't talk to me about fair, friend. Seems to me you haven't seen a whole lotta fair to be set no example."

They sat in heavy silence, but for the woman whining a lament on the radio, barely audible over the roar of the pick-up on the road and the sound of blood pounding hard in hearts and heads. Just the two of them, four years on and staring die straight ahead, Ennis's jaw working as he went over muddles of thought in his mind, guilt and regret and lust and anger all rolled into a tight little ball as he tried to untangle and straighten out some reasonable train of thought; Jack surprised, but not really, and disappointed and feeling foolish and rejected. Neither knew what else to say, but Jack was rarely stuck for words and found some soon enough.

"You want let out here or you gonna ask me to take you back to Riverton before startin' my fourteen hour drive back to Childress?" As he said this, not once casting a glance Ennis's way, Jack pulled in to the side of the quiet road and slowed to a stop. Ennis looked at him, head low, eyes just visible under the rim of his hat. "Ennis, you better say somethin' 'fore I knock you outta this truck."

Eyes meeting, Ennis couldn't get out now, hell, he couldn't hitch his way back now and Alma was already expecting him to be gone for a few days. "Jack," he started, eyes darting away too quickly, never could stand too much eye contact with Jack, unless they were doin' it. "I'm sure I don't know what the fuck I'm thinkin' on right now, this all ain't something I been 'spectin' a happen, y'know…but I know tryin' a be a man don' make me no coward." Ennis paused then, swallowed hard, Jack still eyeing him, let out a sigh and reached towards him, laid a hand soft on his forearm.

"I know, Ennis, I know. You already called Alma, though, and ain't no one in the world find any harm in two ol' buddies goin' fishin' for a coupla days. All I'm askin' now Ennis," he sighed again, pulled his hand back to himself, ran it roughly through his hair and down over his face. "Coupla days, see what happens. 'Sides, after four fuckin' years we got more catchin' up to do than the kind we did last night."

Silence for a moment, Jack just about ready to lose any patience he may have had and kick him right out of that passenger seat. Then, hand on his hat, legs shifting awkwardly, Ennis cleared his throat.

"Sure 'nough," he conceded with a nod of his head and a split seconds eye contact with Jack. "Let's go fish, like we said we would."


	2. Chapter 2

**Go Fish – Part Two.  
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Jack Twist stepped on grass wet from the stormy day before, felt boot heels sinking into mud, let out a sigh as he slipped his hat back onto his head and laid a hand on a denim hip, silently surveying his surroundings. High on the mountain now, what was barely a mountain, no Brokeback, but still, they were up behind trees and far enough away from the rest of the world to breathe right again in each other's company. Ennis was unloading their camping gear from the back of the pick up, hauling canvas bags to the earth, contents thudding and clattering as he did.

The journey had continued in perfect silence; Ennis trying to, then trying harder not to, think about the difference between what he wants and what he's got; and Jack, feeling like a crazy fool, wondering why he'd let himself get carried away with fantasies of him and Ennis, why he'd ever got his hopes up, and wondering why he'd gotten so angry at Ennis for trying to do right by his wife and kids instead of him.

Jack had never thought much about taking a wife, knew before Ennis came along which side of the track he was on, but knew just as well that that life would be no kind of life at all. Least he used to know, not now.

When Lureen came along, keen on him as she was, made Jack get to thinking that a man like him should take love any way he found it. He had himself a habit of jumping right into things, heart or dick first, could think on it later. Marriage felt right then, in a way; no point waiting and wondering. It was what she wanted, would keep his own parents happy too. His father-in-law hated his guts, came free and easy with cheap insults, but that was nothing he wasn't used to from his own Daddy; least L.D. had given him a job and helped them with a nice little house, allowed him to quit the rodeo - no life for a man with a wife, L.D'd said - so no more busted bones for the sake of a few bucks. Seemed a fair exchange for a better life than the one he'd been living.

He'd thought, somewhere deep inside himself, that living this kind of life for just long enough might be the thing to change him; that a real pretty wife might stop his eye wandering in the wrong direction. Never did, but he was lucky, he guessed, compared to some.

"Could use a hand here, bud, if ya ain't too busy there." Ennis, sarcastic son of a bitch, brought a smile back to Jack's lips with this; made him turn around on his sinking heel and walk towards the back of the pick-up, spark of a smile shining back at him from Ennis as he lifted a bag and slung it over his shoulder, lifting his sinking spirit too.

They set up camp in familiar style, mumbling directions and harmless insults to one another as they went; they'd done this together so often, never mind the gap in time, that it came as easy as what they'd been doing the night before. "Best go get some wood for a fire tonight," Jack offered, tilting his head towards the trees a hundred yards or so back, squinting his eyes to see in the still-bright sun. Ennis nodded a reply and they both stood there for a quiet moment, Jack breaking another uneasy silence with, "Well, you wanna come help?" and Ennis gave his answer in actions by following him across the grass, falling into step beside him. Jack ached to say something but no words came; didn't want to start Ennis off again, knew the words could wait.

Soon as a ring was on her finger, Lureen knew what she wanted and Jack'd made his vow to try to give it to her. Nine months on, she had herself a baby boy, just like that; grandson for L.D. and Jack knew then that all he had was an unsatisfactory situation. Once Bobby'd been born he'd served his purpose, knew that soon as the cord was cut. Eight months of being invisible, hardly allowed to see his own son; Lureen spent most nights in Bobby's bedroom, or cross-town with her parents. Jack found other ways to occupy his time, ways he wasn't proud of. Knew then, for sure, that this life would never be what he wanted, couldn't ever change himself and couldn't ask for anyone else to do that for him either. Only one person knew him really as he was, knew him inside and out, in all manners of speaking, and that was Ennis. Postcard in the mail and a few weeks later, here he was.

They collected wood dry enough for a fire, brightness fading as the sun disappeared behind thick cloud when they came back to camp. They set up the firewood and sat beside it unlit, decided not to light it just yet, saving it to last the cold night that lay ahead, neither knowing if they'd have the other to rely on for warmth. Jack rested his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands for a second, and said "Y'know, friend, I got no fishin' gear here with us. Realise you wanted'a go fishin' an' all, but I wasn't expectin' a need it," he shrugged his shoulders, took off his hat and rested his eyes on Ennis before continuing, "you still ain't sayin' much and hell, I know you ain't always in the mood for that but seems like we gotta find us a plan if we ain't gonna be fishin', talkin' or fuckin' up here. What you got in mind, cowboy?"

Ennis wanted to punch him then, just for stating the obvious and for the fact that he had no answer. He clenched his fists in his lap, stared hard into the firewood for a time, decided he needed a drink more than just about anything right then and grabbed the quart bottle of whiskey from the bag at his side, twisted the cap, took a slug and looked up, blue eyes still on him. That what this was, he felt like asking him back, he just worried about not getting to fuck? Ennis knew that wasn't true and knew he'd never say it when, truth be told, that was what he himself wanted, not just the fucking but everything that went along with it. Just hearing Jack say the word quickened his pulse and made his cock twitch to life.

"I dunno," he swallowed hard and shook his head a little, tight lips hiding what could've been a smile, "Drink?" he suggested, offering Jack the whiskey.

"Stubborn son of a bitch, Ennis Del Mar, know that?" Jack said, almost laughing, accepted the bottle, took more than a normal swig and gave it right back, wiping wet lips on the back of his hand then grabbing a log from the not-yet-fire to poke the dirt underfoot with, sad smile fading fast. "Answer me something else then Ennis, you wish I hadn'a sent that postcard?"

"What kinda question's that now, Jack?"

"Okay then, d'you wish you'd never worked up on Brokeback that summer? You wish now, knowin' all you know' about your life, that Aguirre'd given that job to someone else?" Jack's voice was soft as he asked this, question he'd asked himself a number of times but never once felt he regretted it, life was cruel and fucked up regardless of regrets and so he had none; especially not Ennis, not even Lureen.

Ennis sighed and blinked hard before answering, fidgeting where he sat, clutching the whiskey bottle tight in his fist. "That summer was the best time I ever had in my whole life, Jack. Feel ashamed o' that fact, but I know I sure don't regret it. Plenty other regrets besides, but too late to do a damn thing 'bout 'em now." He took another quick shot of the whiskey and handed it back to Jack, fingers touching then as the exchange was made, sending a familiar charge through them both, eyes meeting too, and then it was gone with the loss of contact, quick as it'd come.

Jack pulled the bottle back to his mouth, drunk slowly letting it linger, tasting Ennis's spit on it, smoky-sweet. He felt the fire from the whiskey in him, sending twin bolts of warmth through his body; all at once it was up into his head, flushing his cheeks, hazing the world around him whilst at the same time it travelled down through his chest and empty belly, further still until it rested achingly in his groin. This, coupled with a second's skin to skin contact and a few words – not special words, but words he wanted to hear all the same, words he knew coming from Ennis held deep layers of meaning he might take a lifetime to figure out – and he was ready to open himself up and let Ennis crawl inside him whole if he felt inclined to.

"Least ya don't regret it, means somethin' hearin' that, friend, truly does." Jack held the whiskey out for Ennis to take again, lower this time, not looking directly at him as he did. Bottle accepted, Jack let his hand fall onto Ennis's thigh, let it rest there a minute, felt the muscle underhand stiffen, nerve-tight - couldn't help wonder, then, if that was all that might be stiffening - and allowed himself a squeeze; run his hand up a little, thumb rubbing back and forth over coarse jeans and Jack finally let himself look at him, saw Ennis's eyes downcast, gazing thoughtfully at his hand where it lay, new home in his lap with no plans on moving it unless he had to, and Jack took no objection as acceptance; slid himself a little closer, squeezed the denim coated thigh tighter, higher still and leaned into Ennis, felt him tremble a little, not sure of he was nervous and excited, like yesterday; or just cold, like four years ago.

"What we gonna do?" Ennis asked him sadly, hurt and more in his eyes. He laid his hand on top of Jack's and held it there as he asked again, "What are we gonna do?"

Jack placed his free hand on Ennis's cheek, stroking light stubble, pulling their faces closer together. "I know what we could do, Ennis, if'n you were willin'." Faces so close, then, that Ennis could feel Jack's moist breath on his face, smell the fresh-drunk whiskey on it.

Soft lips found Ennis's hard, too hard for him to resist so he stopped trying and let it happen, no denying he wanted it to and he was here now, anyway. Jack's hand slipped further still to cup the bulge of his balls through tight jeans and stroked til Ennis felt like his pants might burst at the seems. Buckle quickly undone, zipper down, his cock met the cool air and Jack's warm hand all at once, making him moan a little; a low, rasping sound as Jack set to work on him, knew just what to do.

Jack's teeth drew out Ennis' bottom lip as they pulled apart, hand still working, a smile passing between them then, and Ennis gave into temptation, took the chance to ask, "Mind if'n we move this on into the tent?" and so they did, barely losing contact with each other as they went, Ennis first, trying to squeeze himself back into his jeans uselessly.

"You feeling bashful now all'a sudden?" Jack asked, fire in him blazing now, and he following Ennis into the tent, belt undone and pants down before he knelt behind him, hard cock against soft ass as he kissed and nipped at his neck from behind and released Ennis from his jeans again, pushing them down to his knees, aiming to finish what had been started.

"It could be like this, you an' me. Work t'gether, sleep t'gether…"

"Don't remember ever getting much sleepin' done wi' you 'round, Jack an' that's the truth" Ennis was on his back, propped up on one elbow inside the tent, cigarette in hand, jeans still halfway between his knees and ankles.

Jack smiled and sat up, raised his hips and eased, soft now and sticky-wet, back into his jeans. "You know I'm bein' serious here, friend, could be real sweet. Told you, Lureen's Daddy done offered me cash money to make m'self scarce, tho' not in s'many words. Start up a little ranch somewhere…"

Ennis made to say something in protest, but Jack stopped him before he could. "Hush now an' let me say this, I know I sound like a damn fool to you Ennis, but fuck it, know you sure's hell won't ever say nothin' if I don't try to." Ennis kept quiet, Jack lay flat on his back, reached hand up into Ennis's sweat-damp hair.

"I don't wanna jus' do this ev'ry four fucking years Ennis. This past four been long 'nough and I done tried t'do ev'rythin' I could to forget and make a life away from Brokeback. Didn't work, friend, not for me. Not for you either, I'm thinkin'." Jack tugged a little on Ennis's hair so that he'd look at him as he spoke. "Now, I ain't stupid an' I know we ain't about to run away t'gether like kids, but I'm tellin' you now, Ennis Del Mar, we could have a good life, if'n you'd be willin' a'give it some thought."

"Two men, Jack, like us…how you see that ever hap'ning?" Ennis shook his head, "Sides from that, we both gone and had kids, love my li'l girls, so's not jus' ourselves to think on anymore, like that or not, it's a fact you gotta face."

Jack's thin patience had been fleshed out by sex; he didn't want an argument, not again. "People get divorced all the time, Ennis. Daddy's move away and see kids at weekends, shit, I wish my Daddy had left my Momma an' me alone, mighta not had such a miserable fuckin' life. You want your girls t'see you an' Alma fightin'? Daddy all frustrated and sad? An' don't tell me it ain't like that already, friend."

Ennis kept quiet for a few seconds, finishing his cigarette and sitting up to throw it out of the tent.

"I ain't sayin' it'd be easy, but we take some time, make some plans an' it could happen. No one'd ever know we queer, could say we's cousins or some shit. Say you'll think on it Ennis, gimme somethin' here, I don't want my life the way it is no more."

"I ain't no queer, Jack, you might be but don't ever say that I am."

"Sure's hell seem queer when I'm 'round, friend, ain't that queer 'nough?"

Ennis let out a grunt and sat bolt upright, fastened his pants and left the tent.

"Damn queer, cowardly, grumpy-ass son of a bitch!" Jack yelled from the tent, still on his back. He reached down and buttoned his jeans too, didn't feel right to be laying there indecently exposed when they were fighting.

No sign or sound from Ennis for a good few minutes, Jack felt he should be angry or worried but couldn't muster it up. He felt too tired now, and hungry and so went outside, felt a cool breeze blowing and saw fit to start the fire. No Ennis around, but the whiskey'd gone too, so Jack knew he wouldn't be far-off. Didn't think he stood much of a chance of getting anywhere, anyhow, with no horse, no truck and a sore ass. Jack let the fire get going and explored the contents of the bag they'd left behind, thinking of fixing some kind of supper, early though it was, to settle his stomach and give him strength for whatever else might come tonight.

Jack had fallen asleep by the fire after eating, still tired from all the driving and bed-jouncing that'd been done in the last couple of days. Ennis came back to camp, hadn't been far away, sitting and thinking and drinking just a few feet up the hill, little sore that Jack hadn't come looking for him. Drunk and hungry, now, chill in his bones, he'd been attracted back by the warmth of the fire and the smell of whatever Jack had been cooking on it. Some kinda meat from a tin, damn beans, too but he was too hungry to be fussy and set the pan Jack'd left aside back on the flame and waited for it to heat, staring at Jack as he did, meaning to wake him with just the weight of his eyes.

He took another hit from the nearly empty whiskey bottle, Jack still asleep. Ennis knew he wasn't thinking right by the kind of thoughts he'd been having. _Hell with it_, he thought, and moved over to where Jack lay propped against a rough log, hands still in his pockets as he slept, lips slightly parted but no sound coming from them.

"Jack…Jack," he repeated and prodded a flannel shoulder.

Jack blinked awake and licked his lips, didn't make to move other than that.

"I been thinkin'…"

"You been drinkin' friend, any o' that damn whiskey left?" Jack interrupted him, hands out of his pockets now, rubbing his eyes with a thumb and forefinger.

"Let me say this 'for I come to my senses." Ennis said, and Jack stopped to look at him, still sleep-hazy but intrigued by this statement.

"I been thinkin' that m'be you right. Chance we could set up a place, always wanted to, why not t'gether? Me an' Alma, it ain't fair on her, she's a good girl, could do h'rself better'n me."

Jack blinked at him disbelievingly, "This whiskey talk like last night Ennis? You gonna change your mind again in the mornin'?"

"Ain't whiskey talk, Jack, I swear…" he leaned towards him and put a hand on his face, rubbed his thumb over Jack's lips. "I ain't makin' no promises, but it tore me up so bad last time you left. Thought it was jus' me who felt that way when I never heard from ya again. I don't wan' it t'be like that this time."

"It don't have t'be, Ennis…"

"You come at me like a lightenin' bolt w'this and hit twice as hard, Jack. All I'm askin', give me some time to set things out with Alma, an' we'll see. All I can say on the matter."

Ennis brought the whiskey bottle to his lips again and finished the last amber drops of it. Jack watched him in silence for a moment, sat up and leaned forward, brought their faces close again.

"You sayin' you're willin' a'try, Ennis? You wanna a life with a queer like me?" Jack didn't wait for an answer, kissed him instead, but Ennis pulled back, answered anyway, "You ain't any more queer'n I am." Ennis kissed back then, shifted to lay on top of Jack, speaking in actions that had always come to him easier than words.

The food Ennis had set on the flame to heat sparked and spat as they both rolled beside the fire, a hunger in them both now stronger than hunger for food; an emptiness inside each of them more urgent than a hungry belly. They let the pan on the fire burn as they did some sparking and spitting of their own; supper be damned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Go Fish – Part Three.**

When the time had come to say goodbye, they made sure they did it right, before they left the mountain, no blood shed like last time and the only kind of bruises left were in private places, born of eagerness to please rather than willingness to hurt.

The drive back to Riverton had gone too fast for both of them. Each would've been content to sit in that pick-up forever; just talking, occasional brushing of thighs and hands eliciting secret smiles and racing hearts. Jack dropped Ennis off right in front of his house, felt like he was bringing him home after a three-day date, except Alma was there waiting; out the front door and down the steps soon as she'd heard the truck, no final kiss goodbye, just simple words, "October then, friend" with nod of the head, a slap on the back, and Ennis stepped out of the pick-up and back to into reality. He grabbed his bag from the back of the truck and didn't look back at Jack as he greeted his wife, headed on inside with her, invisible weight pushing hard on his shoulders now, tension creeping back into his body, but he'd do what had to be done, in good time.

Ennis had decided to stick with his drunken decision, made his mind up – with no little persuasion from Jack - and no going back on it now. Promised Jack he wouldn't, never mind what he'd promised Alma. He'd fallen into this thing, sure enough, like everything else, but now he felt he was charting his own course, taking the reins and leading his life towards something he thought he might want. He was shit-scared, true, but a little excited to have a plan nonetheless.

Plan was, Jack'd get some money together - maybe money from L.D. but they wouldn't rely on that – and tell Lureen he was leaving; coming back to Wyoming to help his Daddy for a while, he'd tell her he didn't think he'd be back, didn't seem to think she'd be surprised or concerned. Ennis was working flat out as it was, would keep on at it to support his little girls and come October, he'd head out to Lightening Flat, to Jack's parents' place, and help out there for the fall, it'd be a residential position, but close enough to go home at weekend to see his girls. They hadn't discussed in detail how or when Ennis would tell Alma that their marriage was over, but Ennis assured Jack he'd do it when the time was right, Jack took him on his word, nothing else for it if he didn't want o rock the boat.

Jack waited with his engine running until Ennis was out sight, noted that he hadn't looked back, didn't blame him, but saw that Alma had; long, hard, dirty look at him before placing a possessive hand on her husband's back and walking with him. Jack thought little of it, started up the truck again, pulled back onto the road and out of Riverton, whistling tunelessly along with the radio, his hopes and fears and fresh memories of Ennis for company as drove the long road to Texas. No nerves in him at all, best he'd felt in years.

Ennis told Alma how him and Jack had enjoyed catching up, sure wasn't a lie, and that they planned to stay in touch now. Told her Jack's Daddy might be needing some help out on his ranch in Lightening Flats in the fall, that he might go work there if he could, favour for a friend, not too far away, be home at weekends. Stony response of "Fair enough," was all he got from her before she changed the subject to Francine and her cough. Ennis sensed hostility in her but not because he thought she knew anything, just figured she was sore about him disappearing for three days. He didn't know that she'd seen how he'd grabbed hold of Jack when he'd showed that day, seen them kissing hungrily, grabbing at each, holding on for dear life. He didn't know that, although she was naïve about such things, she had a good idea of what they really did instead of fishing on those three days, and that she knew what he intended to do up in Lightening Flat in the fall; Ennis not the only one biding his time until then.

* * * * * *

Ennis eased quickly back into his day-to-day routine, weeks of work passed, long hot days and cool nights of restful, work-tired sleep, warmed by the dreams of Jack instead of haunted by them now, savouring his memories in vivid detail whenever he got the chance awake, too. Even managed to share a few phonecalls over the months, Ennis never time alone to appreciate them, quick words and hushed usually, and damn phone conversations made him nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, but it was worth it to hear Jack's voice, to know he hadn't just been dreaming.

Jack, with plenty of time and plenty to say, told him to call collect when he got the time alone, so he did, from a payphone down by the store Alma worked at after dropping her off on a Saturday, caught him home by himself, and though he couldn't say much he could listen plenty.

"Why you calling from a public phone, Ennis?"

"Girls at home with Alma's sister, I'm headin' off to work in an hour, only chance I'll get to call for Christ knows how long."

"Well, spoils the fun of it that you can't say much, friend."

"What you want me t'say, Jack?"

"Wanted you t'tell me you ain't gone changed your mind 'bout anythin', for one."

"Ain't changed, October's fine. Lookin' forward to it, don't mind sayin'." Ennis smiled then, relaxed a little and leaned against he rusting panel of phone booth.

"Don't mind hearin' it neither. Know what else I'd like to hear, Ennis?"

"What?"

"That you been thinkin' on me and that you been missin' what I c'n give you that Alma can't."

"Shit Jack, don't…." Ennis lowered his voice and felt his cheeks redden, turned so he was close to the phone, head almost touching the wall of the booth above it.

"Why the hell not? I'm here all alone, free to say what I like s'long as you'll listen."

"Hell, I'm listenin'…."

Jack told Ennis how he'd come hard thinking of him that morning; asked if he remembered a time on Brokeback when they were out in the creek, naked and fooling around, said Ennis had grabbed him, pushed him face down in the dirt by the water and fucked him so hard he could hardly stand after, but that he'd kissed him better later that night, all over, bruised hips and more; first time he'd taken him in his mouth, Jack said, and that he remembered that feeling; Ennis's tongue and teeth and shooting deep into his throat, surprised that Ennis hadn't pulled away when he did.

"Fuck, Ennis…" Jack's breath was shallow and his voice a low growl, Ennis could hear movement, knew just what he'd be doing and swallowed hard; hand shoved deep in the pocket of his jeans, straining for a little friction, as Jack continued, "You 'member that Ennis?"

"Hmm, I remember…"

"Memory o'that served me well many a time, damn…remember how you tasted after an' ev'rythin', tasted o'me Ennis….Shit, say somethin', you still there?"

"I'm here, Jack," he lowered his voice so that it was barely audible, shifting as he felt the sticky warmth spread in his pants, "you bad son of a bitch, Jack Twist. I gotta go t'work now…"

"Throw me a bone here, Ennis – know ya can't say much, but this getting' you off?"

Ennis held his lips as close to the receiver as he could and answered "Jesus, Jack – just shot it out here in the middle o'the street without hardly a stroke."

"Well, friend, that should see ya through a long, hard day, sure 'nough." He could picture Jack smiling then - pleased with himself - licking his lips, tumid cock in hand.

"I gotta go…." Ennis felt self-conscious – the street was quiet still, but with his warm seed cooling around his groin, he felt conspicuous and a little stupid, back to a harsh reality with a day of it still to face. This thing they had scared him at times; especially times like this. Made him worry about their plans to be together, couldn't seem to control this kind of behaviour and Ennis was sure it might get them killed if they didn't learn to; another thing to face but all in good time. Right now, all Ennis felt besides sticky and stupid was that he was sure he wanted to give this thing a shot, pleased to know just where his life was headed for once, whether it be down the right or wrong path.

* * * * *

The months passed, summer into fall and Jack had stashed a little money away, had thrown himself into work and earned a good commission selling; couldn't hide it, though, workin' in the family business so told Lureen he'd taken to gambling, giving her more reason to put distance between them. Fine by him.

Come the end of September, Jack told Lureen that he'd arranged to go out to his Daddy's place for a few months, help shape it up in time for winter, wasn't too sure when he'd be coming back. He was met with the reaction he'd expected, she cried to her Daddy and LD had come back to him, said, "You go there, boy, don't feel like they be needing or expectin' you back. Son needs a constant rolemodel, he got his Grandaddy here, do better'n a pissant like you." Jack took what LD gave him, gone from wanting to hit him to wanting to hug him when he added, "Come see me 'fore you go, I'll see you right, don't want you to be sponging off your parents again and disappointin' them too, seems you let 'nough people down as it is, Twist". Jack was set to go – he'd have money in his pocket and big-shot LD'd sure tell them all how he'd given him what-for and warned him not to come back.

Another call then, tell Ennis the good news, he'd be up at his Daddy's place by the end of the week, waiting for him.

Alma knew come October he'd be going, hadn't been quite prepared for how it'd happen, whether he'd be home at weekends, acting like normal, or gone for good. He wasn't sure either. Ennis had mostly kept his distance since that fishing trip; too tired for anything much in the bedroom, least that's what he'd said. Had only done it three, maybe four times in those months, no tenderness in it, and each time it ended in the same way that Alma always hated. Now, time had come for them both to decide what to do next.

"Heard from my buddy Jack again, still wants me t'go up to his Daddy's place an' help out 'fore winter," Ennis told her, chose his moment in the evening, girls tucked up in bed and supper dishes just about done.

"I been thinkin' 'bout that Ennis, and…"

"Alma, I been thinkin' on it too and, well, know I ain't 'xactly makin' you happy lately, think it might be for the best if'n I jus' stayed away for awhile, let you alone t'see how you do. Only coupla hours away if you need anythin'…"

"Ennis, I got some news of my own I wanna tell you 'for you have a mind t'go runnin' away from your responsibilities." Alma said, moving away from the sink, sitting down at the kitchen table, arms folding protectively in front of her. "We're gonna have ourselves another baby."

Speechless, Ennis jaw dropped, then tightened, he ground his teeth as he thought on it, how could this have happened? Not knowing what else to do, not worth a hill of beans and no words to say, he knelt in font of her and wrapped his arms tight around her, felt tears well in eyes, tears for him and Jack and what could've been; tears for the baby growing inside of Alma. He let them fall, sobbed and Alma shushed him, held him tight in her skinny-white arms as he cried for what almost was, and what would be instead.


	4. Chapter 4

Go Fish – Part Four

Son of a whoreson bitch, Jack thought, Ennis Del Mar had gotten cold feet after all. Long days, come and gone, early storm had hit and all week it rained like an old cow pissing on flat rock. Not much getting done on his Daddy's ranch, weather an excuse, and Jack spent slow, cold hours at his bedroom window, feeling like a scolded child, waiting to see a rusty spec in the distance, to hear an engine rumble and Ennis's quiet voice speaking his name.

"When 'xactly is this Del Mar fella plannin' on showin' his face round here, boy?" John Twist asked his son, a week passed now since he'd arrived and they sat down to supper each night, different version of this same question asked. Twist Senior always finding a way to make a simple question sound like a biting insult.

Jack sighed and looked at the plate of food in front of him, stabbed at a potato with his fork, broke it up, like it was his Daddy's words he was dismantling, and answered impatiently, "Told you a'ready, thought he'd a'been here by now. Musta got caught up with somethin'."

"Maybe changed his mind. He's anythin' like you, I'd bet he ain't one to stick with anythin' for too long."

"Hush now," protective mother's voice from Eleanor Twist, "Eat your supper, both o'you. Jack'll help jus' fine, soon's the weather turns right. Mr Del Mar'll be here 'fore you know it an' you'll lick this place into shape, ain't that so Jack?"

"Sure will try Momma, but y'know I can't stay here too long, s'just 'til I find myself some place, things t'do 'sides helpin' here."

A snort from his father then, and they finished the meal in silence before heading upstairs to his bedroom. Jack could hardly stand it back at his folks' place; too long gone to return to the nest, a place that never had been no home-sweet-home, and it definitely wasn't meant to be going like this. Hadn't counted on stormy weather coming this early, even given that Lightning Flat was named just that for a reason. Sure hadn't counted on being alone, with his Daddy on his back about the damn-fool friend not showing and no work of any worth getting done around the place. He'd been relying on the notion that - no matter what bitching his Daddy found to do, no matter what the early fall weather had to give - Ennis just being there would take the sting out of harsh words and the bleakness from the skies.

Nothing to do in Lightning Flat on a Saturday night or any other, either on the ranch or away from it, and that crazy fool feeling had returned to Jack in ever-evolving stages over the course of the week; excitement giving way to nerves; nerves to worry, then anger to hurt. Jack was hurting bad and tired of it; laying flat out on his boy-sized bed - not even the radio for company since the storm hit - thinking on what he might be doing instead, if Ennis had shown. Those thoughts pushed aside for the umpteenth time, he sat up, swung his feet to the floor and sighed heavily. He was convinced now that Ennis had changed his mind, only certainty wavering over whether it was because he'd been too afraid to act on his real feelings or because he had no real feelings after all.

He looked out the window at the rain and the darkening sky and decided he couldn't spend another night this way, the waiting and his foolishness was over. He didn't want to think anymore, about being this way, about leaving his life in Texas to start something up with Ennis, he'd gone through it all more times than he knew was natural and now seemed like the time to move on. Only one thought he had now, the one way he knew of obliterating all the other thoughts he'd been having – alcohol. None in the house and nowhere to get it in Lightning Flat, he decided he'd drive over to Sheridan, find a bar, get as drunk as his gut would allow him and sleep in his truck, pissing rain or not.

Early Sunday morning, Ennis had a postcard in his work-worn hand, plain white, from a pack he'd bought to reply to the first one Jack'd sent months back; had been trying to find words to write in it for days, wondering if it'd really be easier to do it this way than in person, less sure with every try. Alma and the girls still asleep, he stood in the kitchen, all quiet except for the thoughts in his head. His pen hovered whisper-close to the card, ink never quite making it, words never coming to mind let alone making it all the way down his arm to set his fingertips in motion. No real idea of how to say what had to be said, how he'd do it with any kind of words. He didn't know if speaking the words would be any easier than trying to write them down, doubted it, but it was all over and he had to tell Jack, he owed him that much, but sealing that fact in ink was proving too hard to do.

Not much in the way of conversation had passed between him and Alma since she broke the news about the baby. After crying like a baby himself in her arms - told her he wouldn't go to Lightning Flat after all, that he'd stay and take care of her instead - he felt selfish and worthless, guilt eating him up like a hungry coyote, and found himself falling back into the reality that was his life with an almighty bump. Leaving a wife and two kids'd be bad enough, but leaving a pregnant wife with two kids? He was more of a man than that, responsibilities to face, all his own doing. Ennis saw the measure of his life, then; three kids by the age of twenty-four, wife he didn't love and a lifetime of longing ahead of him for something, someone, he couldn't have and shouldn't ever have gotten so close to in the first place. No idea how he ended up in any one of these messes. Nothing else for it though; if he couldn't fix it - and he surely couldn't, too late for that now – he knew he had to stand it.

"What's that you got there, Ennis?" Alma asked as she entered the kitchen, made Ennis jump with a start when she spoke, and he attempted to shove the card back in the brown paper packet it came from.

"Nothin', I's just thinkin' on writin' a postcard…let my buddy Jack know I ain't gonna be goin' up to his folks' place after all."

"S'pose that'd be the decent thing t'do. Must feel bad that you're lettin' them down an' all."

"I guess, " Ennis laid the card down and looked at Alma. She stared back at him, way she'd been looking at him lately like she was daring him to open his mouth. "But I been thinkin' I might jus' go up there today an' tell 'em in person, can lend a hand if it's needed real bad."

"That so?" Alma asked, nodding her head a little and biting on her lip. "Tell me this, Ennis, you gonna go fish again while you're out there?"

Ennis paused before answering, alarm bells set off in his head, he could tell by her tone that this wasn't an innocent question. "What you mean by that, Alma?" he asked sternly and stepped closer to her, fists balled at his sides, eyes avoiding hers, paying focus on the red-tiled floor.

"Fishin' buddy, ain't he, this Jack Twist?"

"Yeah, that's what I told you."

Forced fake-laugh and she replied with an elaborate nod, "That's what you told me."

"I know you was sore that I up an' left for few days last time, but it won't be like, If'n I head on up there now' I'll be back tonight." He went towards her and reached to lay a hand on her shoulder, hoping to soften her, but she jerked away from his touch, made to turn away from him before she spoke again.

"It's not how long you'll be gone Ennis, it's what you'll be doin' while your there."

He felt pain then, shoot through his head and his chest, every nerve in his body reacting, face flushed, as he grabbed her by narrow shoulders causing her to let out a little screech, eyes wide and looking right at him. "You best be ready to tell me what in hell you mean by that now Alma."

She didn't reply, tears welling in saucer-sized eyes, her lip began to tremble. Ennis was trembling himself as he held onto her, vice-tight grip and he knew he'd be hurting her but he couldn't stop, all he could think of was how she might know.

"Goddamnit, Alma, tell me what you gettin' at…"

"I saw it," she answered him then, voice shrill with tears, sobs coming hard between words, "I saw you and him, that Jack…Jack Nasty, doin' what ain't natural for two men to do…and right outside, Ennis, front of my own home…"

Ennis let her shoulders go with a push and she slumped against the doorway. No idea what to say, no explaining this away, he stormed past her, through the messy living room and out the front door, slamming it hard behind him and he was down the steps and into his truck before he had time for another thought.

Jack woke in the passenger seat of his pick-up, stiffer than a southern bow, blinking back at the bright sun that had seen fit to shine right down on him at that moment. He looked around him for his hat and shoved it on his head, brim of the Stetson pulled down to shade his tired eyes, head hurting now worse than his heart. He'd stuck to his plan for the night before, found a quiet bar, got so drunk he'd thought on driving down to Riverton and confronting the cause of all this, but not so drunk he didn't realise it was a bad idea when it took him twenty minutes to put the key in the lock to open the goddamn door. Instead, he slid into the passenger seat and stretched his legs as best he could, grateful that a drunken sleep would take him through the night.

He drove back to Lightning Flat, hangover-headache distracting enough to stop him rethinking the kind of thoughts that had lead him here in the first place.

By the time he pulled into the flat expanse of the ranch, last thing he'd expected to see was Ennis's familiar truck, hadn't expected to see it or it's driver ever again, but there it was, clear as it could be through drink-bleary eyes. He pulled up and saw Ennis sitting there, no smile on his face, but Jack's heart raced at the sight of him anyway, jumped out of the pick-up and towards Ennis before he could think on his aching bones.

"And here I was thinkin' you wasn't comin' after all, friend," Jack said, smiling ear to ear and arms outstretched as Ennis, out of the truck now, came towards him, tight-lipped smile on his face with something behind it that Jack couldn't see; lost hope flooding back into his system, clouding his judgement and making him giddy, along with the booze left in his blood.

Jack grabbed him in his arms, a restrained embrace, and whispered, "Don't go grabbin' me like y'did last time, now – wouldn't be decent if the folks saw," and pulled back, looking at him.

"Why you waitin' out here anyway?" Jack asked before Ennis could speak a word, casting a glance towards the house.

"No answer at the door." Ennis answered, first thing he'd said and as he did he looked at his feet, kicking lightly at the drying mud beneath him.

"Folks musta gone to church. Shit, Ennis, what kept y'so long? I'd jus' 'bout gave up on ya."

"Can't stay Jack, jus' come up to tell you…."

His heart sank, words he'd dreaded, "Fuck it, Ennis, don't do this."

"I jus' drove three hours so's you'd know Jack, I didn't plan it this way, never did, but's how it is."

"What in hell's name are you talkin' bout? What's changed in a week?"

"Ev'rything, Jack, whole thing's a damn mess, I dunno what to do…was gonna send a postcard, but…"

"A fuckin' postcard?"

"I'm here now, ain't I? Jack," Ennis walked towards him, hand shoved deep in his pockets and shoulders hunched, "Can we go somewhere to talk 'bout this? Don't feel right out here."

"Ain't no-one here but me Ennis, so jus' make your damn excuses and go to hell." Jack turned back towards the pick-up and slammed the door he'd left open.

"Alma's pregnant."

Jack looked at Ennis for a long minute - fidgeting on the spot, avoiding looking back at him – before making his way towards the house.

"Son of whoreson bitch, Ennis Del Mar, you better get your fertile ass in here."


	5. Chapter 5

**Go Fish - Part Five**

Drinking coffee at the kitchen table - sitting close, knees touching - Ennis explained to Jack, best he could, what had happened with Alma – that she was pregnant, how that had changed things enough, but now she'd told him she'd seen what she shouldn't ever have seen - and here he was, in the mess of all messes.

"I dunno what in the hell I'm even doin' here." Ennis spoke after a pause, head in his hands and heart in his mouth. He knew he shouldn't have come here at all, that it wouldn't fix this sorry state he'd gotten his life into. Should've stayed and tried to make things right with Alma. Should've lied to her, done whatever it took to get his life back - some kinda life, at least - but he hadn't; no lies this time, not even a denial. His feelings on the journey to Lightning Flat wavered; longing then resentment then something in between, all too closely intertwined for him to make any sense of. He longed for a normal life, but longed for Jack Twist too - to be with him like he had been, to talk and fuck and fight with him, no one-shot feeling after all. Resented Jack for stirring this in him; resented Alma more for stirring different feelings, all the wrong kind: guilt and hurt and regret. Thoughts that plagued him mile by mile of the drive to Lightning Flat, only thing he was sure of was that he shouldn't be heading this way, but he didn't once make to turn back.

"You thinkin' on goin' back?" Jack asked him then, lighting a cigarette, offered one across the lay a hand on Ennis's forearm.

"Don't have no choice, 'nother baby on the way. That's if she still wants me."

"D'you still want her?"

"That don't even matter now Jack." Ennis drew long and hard on the cigarette, rolled it between his fingers as he thought. "An' you know the answer t'that anyway."

He couldn't help but wonder - as he drove, and again as he spoke - why, after seeing what she'd seen, she hadn't upped and left four months previous. Wondered why, after that, she let him do with her what he did with Jack, sure as she must've been that it wasn't her on his mind when he was doing it. Did she love him that much? Pained him to think of that. He tried to remember Alma's face then, that day she'd met Jack, day she'd seen what she'd seen. He tried to recall if there was a sign that she knew or suspected, tried and tried but couldn't remember a damn bit of that day that didn't start with Jack and end with Twist. Tried, then, to hate him for that but couldn't, hated himself more instead.

"She likely to tell anyone? 'Bout…what she saw?" Jack asked him, anxiety quieting his voice.

"I sure hope to God not," final hit of the cigarette and he stamped it out hard, "how can I go back thinkin' that?"

Before Jack could say another word, sound of metal-heavy doors slamming, then a door handle turning, and Mr and Mrs Twist entered the house. Ennis jumped, stood and looked at them like a thief just caught red-handed.

"This Del Mar?" John asked his son, glancing at Ennis.

"Sure is," Jack stood, too, and nodded, looking away from his Daddy and back to Ennis who was eyeing the room nervously, as if looking for means of escape.

"This what kept y'out all night?" Twist Senior asked but didn't wait for an answer, turned his eyes on Ennis. "Sure took your sweet time gettin' here."

"I, uh…had some family news…my wife, she's expectin'," Ennis spoke, the truth but not it all, and as he said it he looked at Jack – saw cold blue eyes on him then, not happy at what he'd let out of the bag.

"We jus' been talkin' on what's gonna happen now, whether he can help'r not." Jack added, before his Daddy could speak again. "We'll head on upstairs, outta your way." Jack stood, put out his cigarette.

"Would you like some pie, Mr Del Mar?" Jack's Momma asked flatly, heading to the kitchenette; his Daddy stayed fixed on the spot at the door, expressionless, guarding his territory.

"No, thank you ma'm," he replied and Jack headed for the narrow staircase at the side of the room, Ennis followed behind, smiling nervously as he did, departing with his hat in his hand and a mumbled, "Nice to've met you."

"Why'd you tell 'em that?"

"It's the truth, ain't it?"

"Shit, Ennis," Jack sat on his bed, beckoned Ennis to his side and put a hand to his temple, "They gonna be askin' all kindsa question if y'stay now."

"Ain't stayin'."

"Few days, at least, might just let the dust settle," Jack snaked a hand round Ennis back, looked at him, eyebrows arched hopefully over sad eyes.

"Longer I'm gone, harder it'll be t'go back. I don't wanna lose my li'l girls, Jack, and if this," he paused then, looked from Jack to the splintered wooden floor, "got out, they'd take 'em away for sure and that'd be that."

Jack had nothing to say to this, wasn't unlikely to happen and they both knew it. Alma could've told half of Riverton by now; an angry mob might be on their way to the ranch to beat their queer asses into next week. Ennis sure didn't need to hear him say that. Instead, he pulled them both back so they were half-laying on the bed, feet still on the floor, and held Ennis close; saw glassy eyes but no tears fell. Thought crossed his mind that if Ennis left again that might be the last of it – this – all over, not even a four-year reunion to think on. The thought ignited fire inside of him – sent the blaze to familiar places, embers kept alight throught the months through phonecalls and promises and sweet, savoured memories of too-quick days on Brokeback. He turned then, lay on his side and put a hand on Ennis's face, kissed him slowly, no response at first but no real resistance either. Jack rolled so he was half on top of him as their mouths worked languorously, momentarily lost in the warmth of this feeling, troubles forgotten, then climbed full on top of him, hungry for more, hands untucking his shirt, before being disturbed by a murmured, "Stop that, Jack."

"Might be the last time we get a chance like this for a while," Jack's voice was husky, his hips pushed tight against Ennis's as he pressed him down on the bed, feeling that, despite vocal protests, part of him that mattered was in full agreement.

"This's what got us into this mess in the first place…"

"This," Jack said, wet lipped smile on his face and a firm hand placed on Ennis's crotch, tracing the outline of the erection pressed tight against his pants, "wouldn't have caused you any o'this trouble if you'd kept it jus' for me."

Jack pressed his mouth to Ennis's again, impatiently, only to be pushed clear off him this time, Ennis trying to sit up, protesting, "Your folks is right downstairs Jack, that ain't right."

"Lotta things in this life ain't right, Ennis." Jack turned, lay on his back. "Tell you what, you ain't the only one riskin' anythin' here. I gave up ev'rythin', been pinin' over you like schoolgirl, an' here you are pushin' me away." His voice was hushed but harsh. "Why'd you even come here, Ennis, if'n you jus' goin' back to her anyway?"

"Where else'd I have t'go, Jack? Sure ain't no one else I can tell 'bout my wife seein' me with you."

"Well, friend, I'm glad t'lend an ear. Glad I'm useful for somethin' after all."

"Shit, don't be like this…You know this ain't what I wanted."

"Gotta tell ya, can't help but feel pissed that you gone an' got Alma pregnant in the time you been plannin' on comin' out here, an' here I am waitin', can't even get t'be near ya when yer here."

Ennis sat up and stared out of the bedroom window at the green and brown land stretched out beyond it. Felt his face burn from the rasp of stubble and his hard-on disappear. Caught in the middle of making no one happy, confused more now than ever.

Pointed silence, then, and Jack broke it to try and fix things. "I'm jus' mad, Ennis. And hornier'n a two peckered goat, can't help it, I'm sorry for gettin' jealous."

"You had Lureen, same time."

"Ain't been with Lureen like that since 'fore I came out here in June. Hell, ain't been with no one."

"What you mean no one? Who else you been stickin' your dick in 'sides Lureen?"

"You, for one, dumbass."

"For one?" Ennis tucked his shirt back in as he sat, concern in his voice now. "That what you doin' out all night, addin' t'your numbers?"

Jack sighed, in no mood for it here or now, and bit back with, "Fuck you, Ennis – didn't you listen to a word I jus' said? Stop looking for trouble where there ain't none t'be found. I ain't the one got anyone pregnant here."

Ennis shifted to look at Jack again, facing him without really looking at him. "Few times we did it Jack, Alma an' me, damn few in these months an' I was thinkin' on you while we was at it."

Jack took the softness in his voice as a signal for a second chance and sat up, close to Ennis, cock still hard and voice soft, "What was it you were thinkin' on doin' with me, Ennis?"

Ennis blushed, half-smiled twitched his lips, "Wasn't like it was 'fore you came back, only done it same's we did."

"How'd we do it, cowboy?" Jack whispered, hand on Ennis's thigh and leaning into him, trying for another kiss.

"Quit it now," All the response he got and Ennis turned his face back towards the window. Jack dropped down on his back again in defeat, Ennis left him for a minute then turned towards him, placed the palm of his hand flat on Jack's belly, propped himself up on an elbow and said seriously, "Can't happen Jack. Not here or now, anyhow."

"I know," Jack sighed so hard his breath was almost visible. He raised his head to look at Ennis as he spoke, damn-fool feeling rising up in him again. "Tell you this though, Ennis - don't tell me no more lies 'bout how you did it with Alma. It don't help any, even if y'mean it to."

"What?"

"What you jus' been sayin'. If you do mean what I think y'mean, and I'm thinkin' so 'cause I ain't got no cunt, then ain't no babies made that way, friend. Either you bullshittin' me 'cause you think I'm a stupid son of a bitch, or she's bullshittin' you an' you are a stupid son of a damn bitch."

Words hit him hard and, right then and there, Ennis felt like a stupid son of a bitch, all right. Might not've had much schooling but it didn't take a doctor to know the facts of life. Facts he just hadn't thought on, too caught up in what couldn't be to think on what should've been in the first place. A million thoughts raced in his head, he didn't speak a word but his eyes spoke for him and Jack knew when he'd said enough, just held an arm around him and whispered, "It's ok - it'll be okay."


	6. Chapter 6

Go Fish – Part Six.

Alma sat in their apartment, above the laundromat, all morning and afternoon – just her and the girls – and cried and cried like she was trying to flood the place out; thinking she could maybe wash herself away on a salty sea of tears that would carry her into a better life. 

No baby growing inside her and she didn't wish there was, not now, but had for a time. She knew Ennis was itching to leave and couldn't stomach the thought of being left alone with two kids, just like her Momma had been. And the shame of it – left for a man. What kind of wife was she to drive her husband to that? She thought she knew Ennis as well as anyone ever could – or at least after three-and-a-half years of marriage that she was getting close. She knew he'd lead a lonely young life, lost his folks and worked hard, never had the time for friends or fun. He was quiet and closed-up, but steady and dependable. Looked after her and the girls, never missed a day of work. That was until he took off with Jack Twist in June for days on end. Time that changed everything; hadn't been the same since then. He'd told her he was planning on going to see him again in October and she knew that if he did, he'd be lost to her for more than just a few days.

Alma'd wondered, after that postcard arrived, just who this Jack Twist was and what made him so special. Ennis never did have any friends, never seemed to care much for anyone but her and the girls, never a mention of Jack or fishing or anything of that kind before, and she thought it odd, but Ennis was a mystery she thought she'd only started to solve. Soon as that particular puzzle was solved she felt she'd sooner have the mystery. Ennis sure never had grabbed her like he'd grabbed at him; she knew then what kind of special fishing friend he was.

She'd thought plenty on it since – anger in her and she planned on telling Ennis not to come back from Lightning Flat if he went in October, that he could have his Jack Nasty; her and the girls didn't want any part of him if he couldn't control whatever sickness had taken him. Anger abated and fear rose in its place. Fear of losing him - losing a Daddy for her girls, just too much for her - and so she'd lied instead.

Ennis doted on his girls – she was as sure of that as she could be of the sun lighting the sky, one thing that hadn't changed in him. Thought desperate thoughts of how she could keep him with her, change him back. Having another baby to tie him to her seemed like an idea that couldn't fail to make him realise that she could give him what no man ever could, precious daughters and maybe even a son. She wanted, then, so badly to get pregnant, but what Ennis liked to do lately didn't send his seed to the right place – try as she might to make it, nothing happened and so she stopped trying altogether. She let her original plan simmer inside; couldn't go through with it. When what she expected to happen happened; told her he was going to stay with Jack Twist and that he might not be back for a while, she lied, told him about expectations of a different kind and to expect a child in nine months.

Tears drying her red-streaked face as she sat, urged Alma Junior to play with her sister and keep quiet, now, Alma reached for the phone and dialled the number she had on a crinkled piece of paper in front of her, sniffling as she did, she made apologies that she wouldn't be at work the next day and maybe the next after that. Asked why and she told a fraction of the truth, sobs coming in between, that her husband had cheated on her, left her now and she didn't know when or if he'd be back. Monroe, her boss at the store, on the other end of the line, offered kind words; concerned and conscious of the opportunity, said he'd come over, make sure she was okay; wouldn't take any kind of no for an answer.

Seed sown in his mind now, if nowhere else, that chances of Alma carrying his third child were mighty slim and Ennis felt sadness more than anything else; sad like he'd lost a child and sad like he'd driven Alma to lying to him like he had to her, sad that Jack had had to spell it out to him. There was anger too, but no more than he usually felt, and that was mostly towards himself.

He sat with Jack in the pick-up, still and quiet, as they headed down to Sheridan to get a drink as soon as the first bar opened it's doors. Excuses made to Mr & Mrs Twist, Ennis was glad to get out of that house, felt seven shades of wrong in there, especially on a Sunday, feeling as he did for their son.

"Call her an' ask her, I'm tellin' you. Call her bluff," Jack started again, second time he'd suggested this, sure of himself on it, the perfect excuse for Ennis leaving. "She can't go on fakin' it for nine whole months."

"Leave it be, Jack. I'm thinkin' on it, what else d'you think I'm doin'? This all ain't her fault, anyway you look at it."

"Pretty big thing t'lie 'bout, friend."

"Well, so was you Jack, but I did it an' deserve all I get 'cause of it."

Monroe had always been real nice to Alma; sweet on her and she knew it. He was no dream-boat, but she could do worse for herself, had done, so it seemed. Ennis was handsome enough, the first boy ever to pay her any kind of attention; they dated some and marriage was expected, so it happened, as did the rest. She felt she loved him, but what did she know about love? Only working for Monroe that made her realise she might be missing something, never had known how a man might treat a woman until then, seemed Monroe was ready to treat her better than her own husband - sure made a better living, too - but was too much the gentleman to make advances on another mans wife, and up until now, Alma had been too much a faithful wife to give this all much thought.

He showed up at the door, brown paper bag in his arms; he'd brought some things, milk and a home-made cherry pie, gave Alma Junior some candy and sent her off to share it with her sister as Alma asked him to sit, thanked him for coming, apologised again for the trouble.

She didn't tell him anything else, about the fake-pregnancy or Jack Twist, just confirmed what she'd told him already and he was ready with soothing words for her, disapproval for Ennis; told her he must be mad to leave a fine woman like her; that he'd sure never treat her that way, no sir. It was all she needed to hear, Ennis could go fish with Jack Nasty Twist all he wanted.

No bars opened this early on a Sunday in Sheridan, so Jack parked the truck and they sat, smoked some. Jack talked, told Ennis how he'd slept right here the night before, had just about given up hope on him and then he appeared, bundle of trouble and then some.

"I sure am sorry, Jack, for all this."

"All the same, it don't help matters any." Jack said, tone too upbeat to match the words he was saying. "Still want you here with me friend, whatever happens. Heard 'bout this little place, over the Montana border, for sale. Ranch still operatin' so jus' be a matter of shapin' it up. Goin' a see it this week, if I can. Would be real nice if you were there t'see it too."

"I dunno Jack…I don't know my ass from a hole in the ground right about now."

Jack couldn't stifle a laugh at his choice of words. "This ain't the time to be talkin' 'bout knowin' no holes, Ennis."

Ennis laid his head back in his seat, gave a sad smile, apologised again.

"Still wouldn't mind you showing me how sorry..."

"That all you ever think on?"

"Four months's a long time," he replied, couldn't resist throwing in, "Too long for some."

"Jack…"

"I know, I know. Look here, bar's openin'. I got least one whistle needs wettin'."

They headed into the bar, stark white front giving way to a dank, timber-coloured room inside. Seemed they hadn't been the only ones waiting for the door to open; before long, the place was dotted with sad-looking men, plenty of sorrows to be drowned between these four walls. Ennis felt nervous being with Jack like this, out in the open, wasn't used to it – times they'd had'd always been away from accusing eyes, no fear of words being overheard or gestures interpreted. He felt seeing them like this, folks might be able to tell they'd shared things; seen sights and felt feelings they shouldn't have, branded by what they'd done with one another. They sat at a corner table, darkest spot in the room, two beers and two whiskey chasers just for starters. Drank in silence for a while before Jack made the effort of small talk; talked about being back in Wyoming, his Momma's cooking, how he had to start looking for a place before he went stir-crazy stuck in that old place with his Daddy on his back.

"Never thought I'd miss workin' till I was stuck there again, nothin' a do but think on you and what we could be doin' with them long days to fill." Jack smiled and took a drink, let his foot nudge up against Ennis's, layers of boot-leather between them but enough meaning behind the contact to send a thrill through his body and make Ennis eye the room nervously, like he had done damn near every time Jack'd opened his mouth anyway.

"Tell you what Ennis, I can go an' leave you t'sit here by y'self if my company's botherin' you any."

"Christ, Jack – don't nothin' ever bother you?"

"Yeah, matter of fact it does. You're botherin' my ass off right now. Coupla buddies can't drink t'gether without," Jack paused and lowered his voice, saw the pleading in Ennis's eyes, "Without you actin' like we's doin' somethin' the devil'd be proud of?"

Jack sighed and downed his whiskey, sat back in his seat, away from Ennis purposefully and looked at him, let his tongue run slowly over his bottom lip before going on. "Ain't nothing wrong in what we doin' here, 'cept the fact that you don't know what in the name a'hell's goin' on with the wife you're s'posed to've left by now."

"I shoulda never come here t'day, Jack."

"No, y'should've, friend, but it should've been without a view t'be goin' back."

More silence, then, Jack's temper frayed and he watch Ennis stand, certain he was leaving now and not sure he minded.

"Gonna take a piss." He mumbled and shuffled to the rest room that lay in a narrow corridor, joined the bar to its back room, a worn looking pool table visible there in the dim light.

Jack finished his beer and took his glass to the bar, smiled at the girl behind it and stood for a minute, run a hand thoughtfully over his stubbled jaw. Not a sorry soul in the room paying him any mind. _Fuck it,_he thought, _I've waited long enough_ and he headed on into that restroom.

* * * * *

Alma sat with Monroe, tears dried and spirits lifted a little. She asked if he'd stay for some lunch, slipped into the bathroom to freshen up, took time to make up her face as well as her mind and knew she had to try and make her intentions clear to him.

"You sure look better, Alma – better'n better, even."

His face lit up to see her and she felt it was right, what she was doing; looking out for herself and her children. Maybe she'd have what it'd take to make one man happy.

Ennis washed his hands slowly in the dirty sink, looked at himself in the god-only-knows-what smeared mirror, buying some time to think on what to do next. He'd stumbled through the past few months, like he had the rest of his life, doing well enough just to keep upright half the time, but he knew this time he'd fallen when it came to Jack Twist. Unseen hands touched him, invisible strings tugged at his heart; this unnameable thing he felt when he heard his voice or just thought about him; it took all he had to hold that back, a feeling he'd tried to feel for Alma but never could; that place inside him filled on Brokeback before she really had a chance. He knew he wanted the same things Jack did, need in him just as strong, but it seemed to scare him a hell of a lot more. Being together in a place like this, even at Jack's folks' place, with him talking that kinda talk, throwing temptation in his face, only way he knew how to handle that was to draw back from it and push him away, though he could hardly stand to see the pain in his eyes as he did it. Scared him too much to give the need in him any leeway at all, for fear of not knowing where the line-drawing should take place; fear of forgetting to draw a line at all.

He jumped as he heard the door open, bent and splashed cold, brown-tinged water on his face and planned on heading straight on out there and telling Jack he'd call Alma. Knew Jack had given up a whole lot to be here, felt he owed him enough to do what he suggested. As he looked up, it was Jack's face behind him in the dirty mirror, small smile, then and Ennis said he'd go out there and call her; get them another drink first, be waiting at the table.

"C'mere, jus' for a second, Ennis…please." Jack asked him as he backed into one of two grubby stalls.

Ennis stood where he was, head cast down but eyes on Jack, frowning from ear-to ear. "Seems you lost your mind, Twist."

"Jus' you drivin' me crazy, Del Mar. C'mere, no-one else 'round."

"Anyone could come in here, Jack."

"All the more reason, then." Jack walked towards him then, grabbed at the front of his shirt, firm hold that said he meant business and pulled him backwards with him into the stall, closed the door and Ennis struggled, familiar struggle, it seemed and Jack pressed his weight against him, took his face in his hands and spoke.

"Four years seemed like nothin' compared to these past four months, Ennis – months of waitin' an' thinkin' I knew I'd see you again, weren't like it was before – I walked away from everythin' I had on a promise you gave me." Jack jerked Ennis's head back against the door. "I know there's shit needs fixin', but you's here now an' I need a li'l somethin' from you to keep me goin'. Tell me you're still into this, friend."

"You know I am." Ennis whispered, quiet as a sigh and their foreheads were touching, now, faces red from scrambling hands, and he gave in, let himself fall headlong into the Jack-sized abyss and, with both hands twisted tight in Jack's hair, brought them together, teeth clashing as they kissed; hot and wet and with more urgency than even the first time.

Bodies pressed close, Jack reached a hand down, slid it between them, unbuckled and - not for the first time - Ennis turned him around before he could give it any thought, pants yanked down just enough and he leaned forward, hands braced on the clammy cistern; Ennis breathed close-mouthed and hard as he tugged down his own pants and Jack felt something hot and stiff slap him on the ass, made him cry out a little.

Hand to his mouth through shallow breaths, Jack spit into it and reached round behind himself to ease the way as Ennis let the head of his cock, slick with his own excitement, rest in the soft cleft of Jack's ass; he was shaking now – Jack could feel it, drove him wild – with excitement and fear; line more than crossed now. He reached down and pulled back on his foreskin, let the moist head meet it's saliva-wet destination and grabbed Jack's hips, pulled them back towards his own and he was inside in one quick thrust, heard Jack take a sharp breath and felt his insides tighten as he did, stopped for a second to revel in the feeling; Jack had hold of him now, was sucking him in deeper and all there was to do was ride this feeling, grab hold of the reins and take it forward.

Ennis thrust hard into him, then, Jack grunting "Fuck, Ennis," reached for one of the hands clamped on his hips and pulled it towards his aching-hard dick. Ennis took the hint and stroked; another one–two-three thrusts and his release came violently, fingers leaving marks on Jack's hips he gripped it so hard. Ennis stilled where he stood, soon as he could see straight again watched sweat pool in the place where Jack's back became his ass and felt he wanted to be that bead of sweat – insignificant, doing nothing wrong as it disappeared into Jack's ass. He un-clamped a hand and raised it to that area, kept it there in the small of Jack's back and let it rest where it was damp and soft with fine, downy hair. Hand still working out front, he ran a wet thumb over the head of Jack's cock and pumped harder, faster until it brought his familiar warning; shot into his hand, gun going off and it sure felt like friendly fire.

* * * * *

Ennis, first to leave, stepped out of the bathroom – feeling branded now for sure, smell of Jack on him – coughed, noticed the hand-written 'Out of Order' sign stuck to the door that wasn't there when he went in and he smiled, muttered under his breath, "Sneaky son of a bitch" and headed out into the light of the afternoon, lit a cigarette and fished coins from his pocket to use at the nearest payphone.

Coins poised at the slot, still not sure on what to say, he dialled and there was ringing in Riverton – Alma's voice and then the operator telling him to pay up.

"Alma…it's me. You okay?"

Small voice on the other end of the line, sounded surprised that it was him. "I'm okay, Ennis. You with…your friend?"

Before he could answer, before he could be angry or make any accusation, he heard another voice, a man's voice.

"Who's that y'got there, Alma – who the fuck's that?"


	7. Chapter 7a

Go Fish – Part Seven (A)

Ennis held the receiver tight in his hand, post-sex warmth in him draining like sand through a sieve as he waited for Alma to answer; knocked-up Alma, there with another man, enough to make Ennis put two-and-two together and come up with forty-five.

"Monroe from work came t'see I was doin' alright under the circumstances."

Could hardly find the words then, any words at all, and he felt his throat close up tight, clenching like the free hand balled in a fist by his side. He took a deep breath, tried to, and spoke quietly. "So help me Alma, if that baby you're carryin's his, if there is a fuckin' baby at all, I'll…"

"You'll what, Ennis? Ain't none a you're concern no more." Her voice was high-pitched and louder than it needed to be, defiance masking anger or upset or both.

A shuffling noise came, whispered words before he could say anything else and then Monroe spoke. "Ennis, I don't rightly know the why's and where's of what's happened here, but Alma's real upset an' I think it'd be for the best if'n…"

"You listen a'me now, an' listen good, you slimy motherfucker. If I'm to find out that baby's yours I'll make you eat the floor you're standin' on, an' her too."

Silence all that met him after that and so he slammed down the phone and walked away, throat dry and heart pounding hard in his chest. He made it to the pick-up where Jack was waiting, already in the drivers seat with a smile so broad it hardly fit on his face.

"D'you make the call?" Jack asked and squinted as he looked at him in the daylight, stuck a cigarette in his mouth, lit it and laid a hand on the steering wheel in front of him. Ennis climbed in, slammed the door and Jack's expression changed as he saw that Ennis's post-coital glow had worn off already. He rolled his eyes. "What in the name o'fuck now, Ennis?"

"I gotta get down there, she's got a fuckin' _man_in there with her."

"Well now," He started with a sly smile and drew on the cigarette slowly. "You got a _man_here with you, if I'm not t'be mistaken."

Ennis ignored him, stared straight ahead like the dashboard of the truck might have all the answers, and tried to speak through gritted teeth. "Here I am thinkin' she's lying…'bout being pregnant…seems more'n likely she's lyin' 'bout who got her pregnant…"

"Friend, why d'you even care anymore? Baby ain't yours, or there's no baby, you got no reason t'stay. She got herself a new fella, fine. Makes things a whole helluva lot easier than they might be otherwise."

"She's been tryin' a make a fuckin' fool o'me, s'why I care, her an' that son of a bitch."

"She tell you this, Ennis? She say she's been screwin' 'round? She say the baby's his?"

He looked sideways at Jack then, hat resting too low, hiding his eyes. "No, but he's there with her, soon as I'm gone. Makes sense, don't it?"

"That it? Ennis…" Jack said softly, smiled, and lifted a hand to his cheek only to have it batted away like it didn't belong there. "Fine. Be that way."

"How'm I s'posed t'be?"

Jack sighed and flicked the last of his cigarette out of the open window, sent sparks flying through the dry air. "I don't know, friend, I guess I jus' don't know." He paused for a moment, bit on his lip and fixed a cold-blue stare on him. "What I do know, you goin' down there an' actin' the jealous husband ain't gonna do no-one no good - no way, no how."

Ennis simmered as he sat, jaw working and lips tight, saying nothing. He thought on what Jack said and couldn't disagree with him, not really, but without really knowing why all he wanted to do at that moment in time was to go back to Riverton and make it so that Monroe wouldn't be in any fit state to get anyone's wife pregnant ever again. If that's what he had done. All this speculation, the second-guessing and uncertainty that came along with it, was making Ennis's head pound harder than his heart. He put a hand to his hat, fiddled with it, like it was some kind of antenna that might un-fuzz the thoughts he was having. He felt his breathing slow to normal and from the corner of his eye he could see Jack leaning over the steering wheel, tensed up, looking at him with an something like disdain or maybe just disappointment.

"I gotta go sooner or later, anyways. Gotta try'n fix all this."

"You still wanna fix this?"

"'Course I do."

"In whose favour, Ennis?"

"What in the name o' Christ you mean by that?"

He didn't answer this, eyes saying enough that he didn't have to. He looked away from Ennis, cursed to himself under his breath and sat back, pushing his shoulders back flat against the seat for a second and wincing a little before reverting to a sad-looking slouch. "You think she told him 'bout us?"

"I dunno…dunno, but I ain't gonna have no fuckin' grocery boy thinkin' I'm queer an' that gives him the right to knock up my wife."

"Not the queer bullshit 'gain, Ennis – I got empty balls an' a pain in my ass tellin' me you're queer as they come. Fact is, you didn't wanna knock her up – don't even think you coulda done it y'rself, so what if'n this fella did? Like I said, makes for an easier way out."

"I don't wanna talk on this Jack, I gotta get down there."

"Well, friend, we're in my truck an' I'll be damned 'fore I drive you back to Riverton to try'n win back your fuckin' wife less'n ten minutes after you was fuckin' me." Jack started the pick-up with a stomp to the pedal and pulled it out onto the dirty stretch of road that'd take them back to Lightning Flat.

"A baby, Alma? He said…I mean are you…you're gonna have a baby?" Monroe asked, stuttering through shock, dirty-white receiver still in his hand.

She couldn't lie again, knew if she did or if she didn't it she stood a chance of ruining anything that might be with Monroe. Instead she let her shoulders slump low and her tears roll, no words spoken, no lies told. Monroe placed the phone back in its cradle and moved towards her, tentative hand on one slumped shoulder then strong arms around them both; he held her close and whispered, "You poor, sweet li'l thing."

Ennis sat still and chewed on a thumbnail as he took in the flat empty road surrounding them on the way back to Jack's folks' place, remembering a time when his life was just as flat and straight as this road; a life before sheep-herding on Brokeback, detour of a summer spent laughing and fucking more than working, the shameful lingering taste of something he never should've had as much of a sniff at. Jack fucking Twist had opened him up and ruined him for that flat, mapped-out life he had to go back to. Same one he was trying to leave now – on the right road but heading in the wrong direction.

He cast his eyes sideways at Jack who was concentrating on driving and wearing his serious face, resolute in his silence without even a tuneless whistle to drown out the radio. Hurt him to make Jack this way, never the silent type and Ennis knew he was only being so to make a point. He ached to say something that might make it right, but had no words that would or could so didn't try, let his eyes rest on Jack instead and thought about his postcard in June and all the trouble it'd caused, couldn't help but wonder how Jack did this to him: not the sex, but all the feelings that grew because of it. Couldn't remember any time in his life before Brokeback when he'd felt so goddamned much – good and bad. Always had kept his guard up and didn't give much away, advice he'd been given at his parents' graveside - just a boy then, no more than ass-high to the mourning crowd – and the realisation of what happened gripped him, took over and made him cry like a baby; sadness inside looking for a way out. His brother had smacked him upside the head, told him "Cryin's for girls, Ennis; no place here for no sissy-boy, you'n me's gotta be men now. " Took his words to heart, acted like a man after that, didn't let anything in so that there'd be nothing to let back out again.

All those years he didn't make a habit of displaying any emotion besides anger and that was fleeting, bottled up and let out, quick and pointless, like fire from a busted gun. With nothing finding it's way into him, life was easier; there was nothing for him to dwell on or have sweet-dreams or nightmares about; nothing to get in the way of him drifting into decisions made by other people; but nothing to prepared him for what happened up there that summer: the joy he felt from their friendship and what that friendship grew into and, just the same, nothing to prepared him for the sick, salty-teared sadness he felt when it came to an end. Four years on and seeing Jack again, past few months, had brought all those Brokeback feelings to the surface, back from that deep place inside himself where he'd kept them hidden best he could for four long years. Now he had no choice but let the emotion rise up in him until he wore it like a second layer of skin. A thought of Jack, sound of his voice and all those surface-close feelings found a way to seep right out, Jack Twist responsible for drawing them out of him like poison from a wound, liquid and real: nerves bringing sweat; confusion bringing tears and desire bringing clear slick and spunk, sweetest feeling of all.

The ranch came into view and Jack looked at him for the first time on the journey, still stony-faced. "You stayin' or goin'?"

There was nothing else for it, had to be done. "Goin' Jack, told ya that."

Jack nodded. "Been thinkin', you, uh…want me to come along? Might be better, jus' incase…"

Ennis hadn't expected that, surprise all over his face and a swift, "No…no way."

The truck came to a creaky stop in front of the house. Jack sighed and shrugged. "Truth then, Ennis, tell me. You comin' back? I can't wait forever….shit, I ain't gonna wait forever. Need t'know friend, 'fore I know what the hell t'do next. Least if I was there, jus' waitin', I'd know."

"I wanna come back, y'know I do but I need answers and 'til I get them I can't make no promises, broken 'nough a them already." Ennis looked at him and shook his head, hoped he'd see sense in what he was saying. "I can't have you there wi' me, Jack."

No response to that right away, he looked at Ennis, then looked sharply away towards the house and opened the door of the pick-up. Fake friendly voice now for hard parting words, "Well, guess I'll see you 'round, friend."

"Hell, Jack…" Ennis scrambled out of the truck, but Jack didn't look back; walked and then disappeared into the house. Words too close to what he'd heard from Jack four years before and brought back the sickness; made him damn certain that it wouldn't take four hours, never mind four years, to get his ass back here if he could help it. Ennis went to his own truck, left parked lopsided in the muddy drive, and looked back at he house, saw nothing. He cursed and punched the tin door uselessly before getting in. Ready as he'd ever be to face Alma and Monroe; he knew this day was likely to get a hell of a lot worse before it could start to get better.


	8. Chapter 7b

**Go Fish - Part Seven (B) ****  
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Not two steps inside the house and in no mood to deal with his Daddy's bullshit, door not even closed behind him, Jack ignored the "Where's that so-called friend o' yours now, boy?" and let the door slam, took the narrow stairs two-by-two to his bedroom. He threw his hat on the bed and watched at the window, standing back so's not to be seen, as Ennis punched at the door of his truck before getting in and driving away, waited til the pick up was ant-small before he took another breath and when he did, his lungs filled with the sour air around him; sour because of the place and the circumstance, because of two-days worth of sweat on his shirt and the hour-old semen still damp in his pants. He undressed, down to his boots, and pulled back the faded curtain that separated the tiny closet from the rest of the room, looked at the almost bare rail before remembering he hadn't bothered to unpack most of what he'd brought from Childress. A few old things hung there, dusty and lifeless like the rest of this place. Remembering something never really forgotten, he reached to the nook in the back, his secret hiding place, and felt stiff fabric, saw a stained sleeve and pulled at it; plaid tucked inside denim folded to a heap in his hands and he looked at it for a moment, held the pile of musty cloth close to him, two closeted shirts for two closeted lives. He felt like a fool for attaching so much sentiment to two dirty-old shirts, but the memory of Ennis's bloody nose, his sucker-punch and all the things left unsaid that last day on Brokeback heightened that fool-feeling and brought the heat of tears to his eyes, he blinked them back and let the shirts fall to the floor, kicked them into the corner, plaid and denim tangling more so as he did.

Jack turned and let the curtain fall back over the narrow doorway of the closet, reached into his still-unpacked bag on the floor and pulled out a clean shirt, clean pair of jeans and dressed slowly as he thought on the events of the day. His hot head had cooled and he cursed himself for letting Ennis go like that, no sense in pushing him away when he was already walking backwards. He worried that this'd all been a big mistake, a pipe dream never meant to come true. Worried more, though, at that moment about what might be waiting for Ennis back in Riverton. Alma and some guy: maybe this guy had friends that didn't take kindly to a man leaving his wife for another man. Maybe they'd be waiting there too, fists ready or worse.

He buckled the old rodeo belt around his waist and grabbed his hat from the bed where he'd thrown it. He looked out of the window again; saw nothing but dirt road and grey clouds obscuring the sun in the colourless sky. He made his way down the stairs and, thankful that there was no sign of his Daddy this time, said a quick goodbye to his Momma. She stood and spoke quickly before he could make his exit.

"What's goin' on here Jack? Your Daddy ain't happy 'bout this, where's Mr Del Mar gone? What 'bout all the work you was gonna do?"

"Jus' things needin' fixin' first, Momma. I'm sorry for comin' an' goin' like this." He spoke softly then turned towards the door, put on the hat he'd been holding in his sweaty hand and turned back to smile weakly at her.

"Where y'goin' now, Jack? What am I gonna tell your Daddy?"

He sighed and opened the door, no time for excuses. "Tell him I'm goin' down a'Riverton t'drag Mr Del Mar's ass back up here."

* * * * *

Alma refused to talk to Monroe about the baby – the baby she wasn't carrying – and he let her be; went about calming the girls after raised voices; making her hot coffee; cutting her a big piece of his home-baked pie. She was puffy-eyed and silent but for the wet sounds of sniffing and sobbing and he sat down nervously beside her, wringing his chubby hands. "Y'know Alma….y'know I'm real fond o'you an' the girls. I don't know the whole story, like I said, but this…it ain't right."

Alma looked up at him, she sat slumped and still on the couch, both hands clasped tightly around the coffee, protectively in front of her belly.

"If he won't do right by you an' them precious li'l girls, Alma," he turned towards her so their knees were touching and laid a hand just above her pale wrist. "If he ain't willin' a do it, then I sure's hell am. Want you t'know that."

She sniffed again and smiled a sad-smile for him, said in her small voice, "I think I'd like that."

* * * * *

Ennis had made up his mind on the drive, no plans to stay with her now, baby or not: he wasn't going back to that life – empty but for a sadness in him that spread year on year. The anger in him now overpowering any fear of what might be waiting, what might be known. Determination propelling him forward, his old truck rolled over the pot-holed road faster that he thought it could.

He was angry at so many things, then: at himself for being weak, for being a liar and coward and a queer; at Alma, for being her and for marrying him, for being pregnant or pretending to be, for maybe screwing Monroe, for not being Jack fucking Twist and angry, too, at Jack fucking Twist, for being just that; just himself, just a man and how that was enough to stir him up in ways he'd never thought possible, causing this train-wreck of a life that Ennis felt caught up in.

As he pulled into the gravel lot behind the Riverton Laundromat he saw the blue box-shaped car he recognised from the grocery store, car he knew belonged to Monroe, and was almost glad. He didn't want to face Alma alone, afraid of what might happen when he got the answers he was looking for; he wanted someone else to focus his anger on.

He saw movement through the dirty square of the apartment's window, knew he'd been seen. He got out of the truck, climbed the stairway to the place he'd called home until that very morning and opened the screen door, saw a teary-eyed Alma and her boss looking cosy on his couch, they eyed him and then each other, silent exchange and Monroe stood, spoke steadily. "Ennis, I don't think you oughta be here right now, Alma don't want you here no more."

Ennis braced himself where he stood, still in the doorway, raising a finger to point at Monroe as he spoke. "You keep out o'this, this ain't your business."

"I'm makin' it his business, Ennis! I don't want you here no more, I don't want your kind 'round my children!"

He walked in wide-strides to where Alma sat, then, and grabbed her by the wrist, pulled her til she was standing, her head coming to his chin - her eyes looking anywhere but at him - and he bowed his head so it was close to hers, spoke quietly. "What about the child you carryin', Alma? Tell me this, s'it his?"

She looked at him wide-eyed and tears left pale silvery streaks on her red cheeks as she cried and shook her head a little.

"Nothin's gone on here between me'n Alma, Ennis, I swear t'that," Monroe to her defence, as well as his own, and Ennis slackened his grip on her, let her thin wrist go and saw his finger-marks there, white turning to purple-red and she let out an angry sobbing sound and pressed herself tight against Monroe, who lifted her freshly bruised wrist in his hand and shook his head. "You oughta be ashamed o'yourself, Ennis – makin' accusations when you's the one doin' the wrong."

Ennis reacted like bear with a flaming dart in its ass; pushed Alma aside and grabbed Monroe by his shirtfront, pushing him hard against the flower-patterned wall. "You don't know nothin' 'bout what I been doin'," he spit unintentionally as he said it and jerked the bit of shirt he held in his fist so that Monroe's head lolled forward before jolting back to hit the wall behind it. His fist was poised to land a blow just as Alma Jnr became visible out of the corner of his eye, holding her little sister by the hand, chocolate-smear on her face and tears in her eyes as she looked up at them.

"Fuck it," Ennis muttered under his breath and kicked the wall, he let go of Monroe with a sharp push and cleared his throat. "You girls go back t'your room now, Daddy'll be in t'see you in a second. Go on."

"Momma?" Francine asked in her baby voice, no words in her vocabulary yet to say what she might've wanted to, but Alma Jnr pulled her along with her without saying another word and Ennis started to follow, stopped Alma from saying whatever words she made to start saying with a firm stare as he passed her to get to the girls' room.

* * * * *

By the time he got to Riverton, Jack wasn't sure he'd even get out of the truck. Thought he might park nearby Ennis's place, keep watch for a sign of trouble or, he hoped, for sign of Ennis leaving. By the time the pick-up rolled to a stop, he'd changed his mind, pulled into the lot beside Ennis's truck and sat for a second, thinking, before he heard raised voices and, stupid though he knew it was, got out and made his way up to the landing. The door had been left ajar so he peeked in, saw he'd been spotted by a fella that must be Monroe; red-faced and scared-looking, sitting with an arm around Alma who followed his gaze to the door. Couldn't just stand there now, he entered and stood in the tiny square of an entrance hall, not daring cross the threshold of the open living room door.

"I…uh, 's lookin' for Ennis?" He held his hat protectively in front of him as he asked this, statement turned into a question, and saw the look in Alma's eye as she jumped to her feet, disbelief replacing the tears in her eyes as she screamed, banshee-loud, "How dare you show your face 'round here! Get outta my house…Monroe, get him outta this house!"

Jack tried to reply a mumbled apology but before the words could find a way out of his mouth, Ennis appeared and joined in the screaming. "What in the name o'Christ you doin' here?"

Jack was filled with a mix of relief and regret at the sight of him; Ennis was there, he was okay, no angry mob waiting for him after all, just Alma and some sap at her side. No need for him to be there after all. Looked to him like the sap had already filled Ennis's shoes in Alma's eyes.

Ennis came towards him then and Jack couldn't hold back a little smile, hope in him springing back to life. "Jus' came t'see you was okay." No smile from Ennis in return as he made his way towards him while, at the same time, he heard Monroe, standing behind Alma with a hand placed on each small shoulder, asking, "Who's this? What's goin' on Alma?"

"Jack Nasty's who this is." She replied in a voice louder than she looked capable of producing. All eyes on her then and in a second, she raised a hand to touch Monroe's, pulled it down from her shoulder to her side, fingers weaving through his, making a statement, loud and clear.

Ennis warned her, "You best shut your goddamn mouth, Alma," and his eyes were back on Jack. "Get outta here, I told you not t'come."

Jack swallowed hard and looked at Monroe, bewilderment on his round face as he stared back at him. He turned his gaze back to Ennis, who was eyeing the floor, and asked quietly, "You comin' with me?"

Before he had a chance to gauge Ennis's response, Alma was right there in front of him, her small fists pounding at him weakly as she told him again to get out, that he had a nerve, that he should be ashamed. Monroe and Ennis both pulled her off him, she struggled as Monroe took her aside and tried to sit her sown on the couch, "Alma, this ain't no way to be actin' in your condition."

"I ain't in no condition!" She spat at him and threw off the hand that was holding her back. "There, Ennis – no baby. You can go with…with _him_, jus' don't ever come back here 'spectin' a see those girls. I won't have it."

Jack couldn't help himself, he smiled at the revelation and looked back at Ennis, "I told you she was lyin'."

He knew he deserved the smack in the mouth that followed, Ennis's fist landing square and hard on his jaw and throwing him back. He coughed and staggered outside, spit blood over the side of the stairway and watched it drop as if in slow motion, exploding like a party balloon as it hit the concrete path below.

He heard Monroe talking inside, "I think you and your …friend there should get outta here before I see fit to call the authorities…I see what's goin' on here an' this all ain't right, Ennis, what you put this poor girl through…you don't deserve t'have them kids..." Jack heard more crying and noises he knew came from fists hitting flesh, dry rustling sounds and pained grunts from struggling. Not concerned, Monroe was no match for Ennis, and there seemed no sense in getting any more involved than he already was, he held his jaw and started down the steps, back towards his pick-up, strange mix of sadness and satisfaction in him at how this had all panned out.

* * * * *

"Stop it, Ennis! Ain't you done enough?"

He let go of Monroe on Alma's insistence, her words finding a way through to make sense in his head, red-rage that blinded him fading fast. He stood and looked down at Monroe, bleeding – broken nose there, for sure – and he coughed and tried to catch his breath. He looked at Alma and saw his precious daughters, petrified because of their own Daddy and he felt all the shame in the world fall on him, eat him up like a sudden plague. He looked back at Monroe before making for the door, Alma and the girls crying out as he moved towards them on his way. "I'm sorry for all a'this Alma, I swear I am."

"Get out!" She screamed back at him and he finally did, left his life behind with no going back, stepped into the cool air as his cheeks burned and his knuckles ached and saw Jack fucking Twist in his truck. Couldn't handle him right now, shame outweighing any other kinda feeling, so he walked stiffly back to his own battered truck and got in, started up and drove away without looking back. Heard an engine roar to life a second later, knew Jack was following him, had it confirmed by default as he glanced in his rear-view mirror and he kept driving, saw Jack flash lights at him couple of miles on but didn't respond, drove and drove until he felt he'd calmed down and could trust himself not to punch him in the face again, too easy to lay the blame all on him.

The road was flat and empty, the sky dark enough for rain and Ennis heard the honk of Jack's horn and his lights flashed again, could just about see the exasperation on the small reflection of Jack's face in the mirror. He slowed to a stop, finally, no other sign of life for miles around, and sat where he was, watching Jack pull in a few feet behind him and get out of the truck. He came towards him stood by the open window, rested a shoulder agains the door and spoke without looking at him. "You okay Ennis?"

"I dunno…I guess. You shouldn't've followed me down here, told you that."

"I know, but I jus' had nothin' better t'do." He smiled then looked up at Ennis, let the corners of his mouth turn downwards when he saw his smile wasn't matched. "Wanted a'make sure you was okay…wanted a'make sure I'd see you 'gain."

"I told you I'd be back. You just gone an' made a goddamn bitch of a situation a whole helluva lot worse."

"Well, it's done now, friend. You comin' back with me or…?" Jack put a hand to his jaw and turned his head to spit again, blood welling where his teeth had cut into flesh on impact leaving a dull, metallic taste in his mouth.

"Your face okay?" Ennis asked him awkwardly, ashamed of being responsible for the blue swelling on his jaw and the blood in his spit.

"Think I'll live, ain't the fist time you turned violent on me, after all."

"You deserved it both times." Ennis smiled then, knew that the worst was over and now wasn't the time to dwell on the rest.

"You wanna go back t'the ranch?"

"Not 'specially, but ain't got nowhere else t'go now, do I?"

"Tell you what, I got an idea. I got some money, we could go back to that Siesta motel off the freeway, spend the night. Ain't gonna get no kinda peace at my folks place."

"That's an idea, alright. Won't your folks think somethin' funny's goin' on?"

"Shit, they will anyway. My Daddy don't seem too impressed with you so far and he ain't never been impressed with me. Don't matter none, we'll be outta there soon enough."

"Well, sounds good t'me."

Jack spit blood again and smiled as he backed away from the truck, heading towards his own. Ennis saw him take out a pack of cigarettes as he turned and stick one in his mouth, pausing to light it. Still not a soul to be seen or heard on that road, Ennis popped open the door and jumped from the truck to the ground. "Can I have one o'them smokes, Jack?"

"Sure can," Jack replied and pulled the pack from his pocket needlessly. Ennis was right in front of him then, faster than a lightning flash and he plucked the cigarette from Jack's lips, held it in his right hand and grabbed his swollen jaw softly with his left.

"I sure am sorry 'bout the punch back there." He said, voice little more than a whisper, and his eyes darted quickly from side to side before closing suddenly, lips pushing hard against Jack's; a quick, close-mouthed kiss and he pulled back, stepped backwards and raised Jack's already lit cigarette to his lips as they curled in a smile. "Thanks for the smoke," he said and drew deeply on that cigarette, iron taste of Jack's blood faint on the tip. He turned towards his own pick-up again and exhaled, felt the anger and shame, most of it, flow from him like the smoke from his lungs and, as he drove towards the motel felt something that might've been optimism, but it was too rare a feeling for him to be sure.


	9. Chapter 8

Go Fish – Part Eight.

Ennis waited, sat low on creaky-worn leather in his truck, one knee propped up on the dashboard, and peered upwards through the dirty windscreen. The sky looked like it could be on fire, rolling clouds scorched black-orange by the setting sun; seemed fitting at that moment. Something frightening in it, but beautiful just the same.

He was parked at the far side of the motel, not in the lot upfront where Jack'd gone, and as he waited he tried not to wonder what in the name of hell would happen next, besides the obvious. A life behind him now, four years undone in as many months, too messed up to ever think of going back to no matter what happened next. He felt a sickness rise in him again, but this time it was a nervous, giddy feeling that swam in his belly and coursed through his bloodstream like cheap whiskey, drowning out the heartsickness that had gone before. Chance taken now, choice made, and he was flying on this feeling, optimism swelling his heart as he tried hard not to think on the practicalities of the situation, pushed back all the fear and worry; the knowledge that he was just about to spend another night in a springy motel bed with Jack Twist doing well to keep it at bay.

His heart leapt like a scorched lizard at the sight of Jack leaving the reception area of the motel – a poky little cubbyhole at the end of building – and he cursed himself for letting it. Sitting up from his slump, he saw Jack turn and look at him with a broad smile, swinging a key loosely in one hand, paper bag held in the other. He was checked in and ready now, walked slowly and surely toward a door near the far end of the motel: a panelled stretch of flecked, once-white doors in a row, dim-neon glow on them, surrounded by nothing but road and grass and dust. As they'd agreed on their quick stop at the 'Gas n' Grocer' a mile or so back – and just as they'd done last time - Ennis waited in the pick-up until Jack'd entered the room; didn't wait long to follow this time or the last, but still better to wait a little than be seen going into a motel – one double room, do-not-disturb-sign at the ready – with another man.

Ennis waited a long couple of minutes then put to use his knack for making himself inconspicuous as he slunk out of the truck, no bag or belongings to take with him, he walked briskly to the same door Jack had disappeared into. Saw as he approached it was numbered 7and that brought a faint smile to his lips; lucky for some, he thought, seemed like a sign under the circumstances. He remembered then, that it'd been 13 they'd stayed in on their last visit and how that hadn't felt so unlucky at the time. Told himself he didn't believe in none of that horseshit anyway. Facing the door, Ennis paused and tried to think, knew there must be a million things to say and at least as many plans to be made, but all that came to mind was thought of whether or not the room'd be the same as last time, if it had it's own bathroom, if it'd have the same musky smell and rattling air-conditioning; knew, though, that none of that would make a blind bit of difference to what'd happen once they were both in there together.

* * * *I *

Jack entered the room, stiff key turned in the lock and withdrawn, thrown onto the scratched wood-topped dresser by the door along with the paper bag – whiskey in it, some cold-meat sandwiches - as he let it close behind him, nerves in him now worse than the last time. He knew that Ennis could easily drive away while he was waiting there, knew that he'd had the whole journey, all alone, to think on what'd happened with Alma and regret might be brewing in him. Hoped it wouldn't happen, felt pretty sure he could expect him to be there with him in no time at all, but he knew that it was way too soon to get complacent about what he might have a right to expect from Ennis Del Mar.

As he waited, he examined the undersized room and had to concede that despite it's flaws it was still better than his own bedroom in Lightning Flat. No parents downstairs, queen-sized bed and a lock on the door. Even had it's own bathroom – well, a closet with a toilet: a showerhead on the wall with a curtain rail by its side and a hole in the beige-tiled floor. Nothing else to explore, he sat on the bed and waited, more anxious now that he had been in the weeklong wait before. A faint knock at the door then, before he could get to any more fretting, and he shot to his feet, only a shadow of a doubt in his mind about who might be knocking. "Come on in."

Ennis appeared, hat first, and ducked quickly inside, leaning against the closing door as an uneasy smile played on his thin lips.

"Well…" Jack started, lopsided grin spreading across his still-swollen jaw as he stood by the bed.

Ennis took off his hat and replied with raised brows, "Well…"

"Here we are 'gain."

"Yep." Ennis shifted where he stood, one hand behind him, shoved in his back pocket and the other holding his hat in front of his chest, centre-left, like some kind of shield.

"Shit, Ennis – don't reckon I thought this'd really be happenin'." He ran a hand through his hair, grin still on his face as he wondered why they were both standing there like a couple of virgin brides when they'd been well past coy around one another since their first night sharing a tent.

"I, uh…" Ennis started, and then paused to look at the shabby carpet under his feet, something unreadable spreading across his taught features.

"I mean, I'm glad it has…Sure's hell thought 'bout it but jus' never was sure it'd happen." Jack moved towards him - took the hat out of his hands and threw it onto the bed – and raised both hands to his face, thumbs stroking cheekbones, voice low. "Ah, hell Ennis. This is the start a somethin', here. I want more a you than I can get in any damn motel. Or any damn bathroom, for that matter," he smirked, "Fun as that was."

Ennis laughed then, a rare and quiet sound that brought a twinkle to his dark eyes. A sound and sight Jack had stored in his memories from Brokeback, it filled him with a certain kind of warmth to even think on it, and here it was in the flesh, heating him through. Ennis raised his hands from his sides, laced one in the soft hair in the nape of Jack's neck and set the other on a strong shoulder.

"This ain't no little thing happenin' here, Jack," Ennis told him, serious again.

He let out a dry snort of laughter then and pressed his forehead tight against Ennis's. "Think I know that much, friend. Both gave up a lot for this."

"Scares the piss out a me t'think on it."

"Gonna have plenty a time for thinkin', I got a better idea for now."

That idea was to make use of the isolation offered by the no-tell motel, the freedom awarded by closed doors and drawn curtains, far cry though it was from the tree shaded mountain top where they'd first enjoyed revelling in their aloneness together. Jack brought his mouth to Ennis's hard and let out a yelp at the almost-forgotten pain in his jaw, eyes closed tight as he drew in a sharp breath. Ennis sighed and pulled back to look at him, stroked his jaw with a calloused thumb, purpling skin visible even under two days stubble. "Little darlin'…I'm real sorry."

"'S okay," Jack covered Ennis's hand with his own and brought it down from his face through the tight space between them and pressed it into the crotch of his jeans. "I can think of more'n one way y'might make it up t'me."

"That so?" None-too-subtle hint taken, Ennis pressed his palm flat against the growing bulge there, rubbing gently at first, before using that hand to push Jack backwards towards the bed, laying feather-light kisses on his bruised jaw as he did.

Jack felt the bed frame nudge his calf as he was backed-up and braced his hand on Ennis's chest, took a handful of cotton shirt, to stop him from falling down. "Believe it's my turn t'do the ridin', cowboy," He turned to reverse their positions, pushed Ennis back onto the yielding bed that gave a lazy squeak as he did and kneeled over him, briefest crotch-to-crotch friction eliciting mutual groans. Ennis reached up to tug at Jack's shirt, buttons popping with the force and Jack mumbled to him as he reached for his belt buckle, "Watch it now, this the only one I got here and I can't sew for shit," The shirt was off though, buttons be damned, and rough, impatient hands were all over him.

Short work soon made of the clothes that were only getting in the way and Jack was astride Ennis again, solid weigh bearing down on him mouth-first and he responded by digging his fingers - with what remained of short, bitten fingernails - into Jack's bare ass, hard enough to bruise. He knew Ennis enjoyed leaving his mark on him like this and he enjoyed it near as much. Knew he'd linger on them later, cover them with healing kisses and mumble rarely spoken words to him, as gentle as he would be tending a sick horse.

Jack felt Ennis's hips buck upwards, erection pressing satisfyingly against his own and those hands, still on his ass, spreading his cheeks and urging his hips to lift, to let him in. A hand then, off his ass and snaked around his hip, through the wiry silk of his pubic hair, to take hold of his dick while Ennis's own slid through the space between them and rubbed hard against Jack's perineum. Tempted as he was to let this happen, it wasn't what he'd had on his mind as he drove here; wasn't what he'd been waiting these months for and besides, Ennis had taken his turn at that today already.

The ache in his groin detracting nicely from the pain in his jaw now, Jack kissed Ennis like he was devouring him, savouring the smoky wet warmth of his mouth, letting teeth clash, scrape lips, drawing blood and no apologies necessary this time. He reached down and took hold of Ennis's hand, a little grunt of discomfort escaping his lips as the tight grip on his dick was released, and he pulled his hand all the way up so it was stretched above his head, pulled the other up to join it and pinned them both above his head by the wrists. It drove him crazy to see Ennis spread out before him like this; face flushed, lips swollen, chest heaving and cock standing stiff, demanding attention and him holding the power to deny it. He'd been inside Ennis more times than he could count but hardly ever like this. Ennis became shy under scrutiny, so he preferred to face away. Not this time, though. Things had changed, and he was sure gonna have to get used to being looked at. Jack shifted then, pushed Ennis's legs apart and up so he could kneel between them.

"What y'doin'?" Ennis asked through hard breaths, his features still soft.

"Just a little rearrangin'. You complainin'?"

"Not yet."

Jack bowed his head to kiss him then, allowing their cocks to touch, his own slippery wet already and throbbing like a fresh wound under the pressure. He whispered as he pulled away, "You want me t'fuck you Ennis?"

He didn't reply, but with an almost-smile on his face lifted his head towards Jack's for another kiss.

"Fuck, say it, Ennis," Jack whispered, pulling back, releasing his grip on Ennis's wrists and stroking a hand over his face, fingers resting on his lips.

Ennis looked flustered as he shifted under Jack's weight and spoke quietly into his hand. "Hell, I want it. You aimin' a make me beg?"

"No, jus' good t'hear it."

"Well, it'll feel better jus' t'do it…."

Jack shut him up by sliding two fingers into his mouth, arching his eyebrows in a you-know-what-to-do face, as he reached down and cupped his balls with his other hand, tugging on them before rolling them gently. Jack enjoyed the feeling of Ennis's velvety tongue on his fingers, enjoyed more the sight of Ennis, eyes closed, making them wet and ready, lost in the moment, his features soft; sight he hoped to see now just as regularly as he had during their summer on Brokeback.

"Damn, that's enough o'that…" Jack said, shaking himself out of his reverie and pulling saliva-wet fingers from Ennis's mouth. He pushed his knees up against Ennis's pale ass and sat up, pulled at strong legs, one over his shoulder, and ran a wet finger down the crack of his ass, spread open by his position, before pushing it all the way in. He sighed as he felt the tight muscle contract and quickly added another finger, slid them both in deep and curled to the side, making Ennis's moan a low rumble and grind his ass harder down onto them.

"Say it 'gain Ennis…"

Ennis opened then rolled his eyes, spread his legs a little more and reached for his own dick. "Jesus H. Fuck, jus' do it a'ready…"

Content with that, Jack finally obliged, wet-lipped smile on his face turning to tight-lipped concentration as he put a hand under Ennis's back and lifted him, angled the slick head of his cock where his fingers had just been and thrust forward, losing himself in the tight enveloping heat too soon, trying to go slow but failing, fucking him hard and fast instead, headboard of the bed banging a fevered tattoo to the rhythm set by each stroke. With a hand on top of Ennis's, pumping his cock in time, he came hard in sharp, sudden waves with no more than a grunt as warning.

"You gettin' close?" He asked as his movement grew slow and shallow, each breath long and laboured, hand still working with Ennis's own.

"Uh…y'in some kinda hurry?"

"Maybe…" Jack pulled out of him then, cock sticky-wet and soft and he brought his hand down and over it before rising it up to Ennis's again, letting the come-moist hand slide easily up and down, fast as he could manage and that seemed to do it; Ennis spilled out into his hand with his eyes tight-shut, made a humming sound that turned into a cry of "Jack," before pulling him down on top of him for another violent kiss, intermingled spunk cooling as it clung to soft curls, drying there, locking them together.

.

They lay there for a long time in silence, wrapped up like a pair of water snakes, lingering dampness from sweat and saliva and sex sticking to them, filling the still air in the room, and neither one minding one bit. The wind blew grit and dust against the window as it rose outside and, for once, Ennis was first to break their shared silence. "Storm brewin', so it seems."

Jack was jarred from his half-sleep and rubbed his eyes before answering, "Guess so. Been a week of it back home, didn't get shit done for the old man while I was waitin' for you."

"No?"

"Nope. One time I felt like workin' too, 'stead a sittin' 'round frettin' like a bitch." He untangled an arm from around Ennis's neck and stretched to reach his shirt where it'd been discarded on the floor, dug out a bashed pack of cigarettes from the pocket, along with a lighter, and offered one to Ennis who accepted without words, stuck it in his mouth and allowed Jack to light it for him before resting his head back in the crook of his arm.

"Ain't your folks asked why I'm comin' up there with you? I mean, what d'they think 'bout all this Jack, you leavin' Lureen an' now this?"

"Don't rightly know or care much, friend. Told 'em 'bout you after Brokeback – not ev'rythin', shit – so wasn't no great surprise, least it didn't seem so. They don't ask much an' I don't mind not tellin'. How it's always been, more or less."

Ennis exhaled and watched the smoke-cloud drift upwards to the chipped-paint of the ceiling, mingling with Jack's as it did and it seemed to him that they'd be sharing everything from smoke on up from now on. "Where'm I gonna be sleepin' up there, anyways?"

"Well, bed's smaller'n a breadbox." He said, shaking his head, pausing for a long drag. "Bedroll's big enough for two, you know that well 'nough…could throw that out on the floor, I wouldn't mind sharin' it with ya." Jack looked down at him, heavy-lidded, and puckered his lips around his cigarette in mock-seduction. Ennis muttered something at him that he didn't quite catch, but he didn't feel the need to request a repetition. "Ain't nowhere else for you t'bunk down, 'sides the couch. Suit y'rself."

"You got all this figured out, Jack? I mean, here I am…but I still got trouble seein' how this is gonna work out."

"Sure had time t'think on it, I got some figurin' done. Don't mean I ain't scared too, Ennis. Guess I jus' figure your scrawny ass is worth the trouble."

Ennis smiled then, couldn't help it, broad and pink lipped, and stayed quiet for a while before turning serious again. "Tell you what, wherever I wind up, can't let anyhthin' like this happen', not while we're up there under your ol' mans roof. None o'your pawing on me like you was t'day."

"I'll try'n resist, Ennis," Jack sat up a little, made the headboard rattle again and giggled to himself. "It won't be easy, but I surely will try."


	10. Chapter 9

Go Fish – Part Nine.

Ennis's eyes shot open in the dark, blinking suddenly awake as fragments of an already forgotten dream left him, replaced with nothing but the still night air closing in around him as thick and black as molasses. He took a second to wonder where he was and what the dead-weight tingle in his arm might be before reclaiming that arm with a swift pull-to, the soft scratch of an unshaven face grazing his skin as he did, and he remembered soon enough that it was Jack Twist asleep beside him. Here they were again, back in the Siesta motel, not twenty miles from the wife and kids he'd left crying in teary-eyed unison just that afternoon.

Ennis threw back the thin, starch-stiff sheets and swung heavy legs out to the floor, taking a minute to shake the pins-and-needles out through numb fingers, and stood, eyes adjusted now to both wakefulness and darkness, and shuffled towards the faint outline of the bathroom door to relieve himself, not taking the trouble to find the lightswitch as he went. He felt slow and groggy from whiskey and too-little sleep, but still his heart seemed to pound too hard in his chest as he remembered the events of the day – and the night – standing with his well-used dick in his hand, glad to hear the piss-on-water splash, confirming his aim was on. He flushed and scratched vaguely at the line of hair on his belly, an unseen ghost of a smile playing on his lips for a second as he circled the bed and saw the shadowy shape of Jack in it, breathing softly, dead to the world. He felt the stiff prickle of a sticky patch of carpet underfoot and, smile fading, stopped beside window to listen to the wind throwing grit and rain against it so hard he had to pull back a cretonne curtain to make sure it was just wind doing the throwing.

Back in bed Ennis lay close to the edge and on his back, mattress sagging under his weight, and mind racing ten to the dozen. Same thoughts he'd been having for months, some of them years, played over in his mind, started worrying at him like rat's teeth. For a time he thought of shaking Jack awake, suddenly angry at him for sleeping there like a baby at a time like this. Instead, he curled his hands into fists at his sides and squeezed his eyes tight shut, anxiety gripping him so he felt he was inhaling it with every breath. He thought about leaving then, quiet and sudden – not too late – then cursed himself for it, knew well enough that it was way too late. Couldn't turn back the clock and, deep down, he knew he didn't want to. He'd spent four years wishing he could go back to a time before he'd set eyes or hands or anything else on Jack Twist, but never had made those wishes with any kind of conviction. Only one wish that held true – a wish he'd had on rare, guilty occasions and now, for sure - was that he never had married Alma Beers, never fathered two precious little girls, because he'd known then, no less clearly than he did now, that the part of him they needed most, both wife and daughters, was a part he didn't have to give; a part of himself left on Brokeback like a bloodied shirt or one of Aguirre's sheep. Still, wishing to change the past was as pointless as tits on a boar hog. Ennis kept his eyes closed and willed sleep to take him, telling himself that this whole thing was just another curve on the road of his life, nothing he could do now but keep hold of the wheel.

They woke late, Ennis first, still anxious, a knot of dread tied tight in his stomach at the thought of going back to Lightning Flat and facing a new life. He wished they could take a tent and go back up the mountain - Brokeback or someplace like it – wished life could ever be that simple, but knew otherwise too well so shoved the wish away, chiding himself for wishing anything at all. In the bathroom, Ennis pulled back the shower curtain, set the rusty hooks it hung from clanging together, and turned the leaky faucet toward red. He felt cold water pool at his feet as he stood back to let it run warm before stepping under it. He heard Jack stir as he hauled the curtain back along it's thin rail, heard the dull patter of bare feet on tile floor as he came into the small room, heard him piss without flushing, then heard the clang of curtain hooks on their thin rail and saw Jack in front of him, coming close to him, pressing them chest to chest under the lukewarm spray.

"Mornin'," Jack smiled at him and blinked as the water ran over his face, shiny droplets clinging to dark eyelashes. "Thought for a second you'd upped an' left."

Ennis smiled back, knot inside him coming slowly undone. He was still there and glad of it in his way, but couldn't yet say it in words. Instead, he tried to say it in a water-wet kiss, then again with Jack pressed face against cool tiles; tried to say it in the slippery slapping sounds he made moving inside him. Still not sure if he'd been heard, as he came so did the words and he whispered them into a wet ear, "I'm still here...Ain't ever goin' nowhere."

"I'm starving," Jack stood by the door of the room and set his hat back on his head, hair still damp from the shower and a shiny-wet glint in his eye. "You?"

"Nah, I don't feel too hungry." Ennis stood by the bed and shook his head, demeanour changing already at the thought of facing the world on the other side of that door.

"Well, you gotta eat. Y'wanna stop someplace? That diner we went to last time, out by the railroad, or could just wait 'til we're back at the house."

"I'd rather stop by that diner. Don't wanna impose any more'n necessary."

"You ain't imposin' any more'n I am."

"Still," Ennis looked at his feet, hooked a thumb into a frayed pocket.

"Okay then, but 'less you wanna move in permanent like with my folks we gotta be careful with money from now on in. No more motels and eatin' out after this," Jack smiled a little and reached for the door handle. "You've a'ready cost me more'n Lureen did, an' least she weren't no good at throwin' a punch."

Ennis looked at him nervously before catching the grin on his face and replied, "Well, bet there's a few things I can do real well that she weren't no good at."

"I'll meet you out front," Jack said with a chuckle and a shake of his head as he left for the motel reception office to hand back the key, leaving Ennis to skulk back to his truck alone, which he did after a minute or so, stood by the pick-up smoking, squinting his eyes as the wind swirled around him, air dry now but clouds hanging ominously low in the sky above him.

They drove to the diner in their respective trucks: Jack with the radio loud, whistling along with any song he knew and smiling at his rear view inbetween; and Ennis, with his hands held tight on the wheel, eyes firmly on the road to stop his thoughts from wandering back to his doubts, or worse, to his dick. They ate quickly and quietly when they got there. Ennis looked as nervous as a bag of cats so Jack let him be, happy enough to have him there without pushing him to look like he might be enjoying it. Soon enough they were driving again, off the freeway and onto the lonely road that lead to Lightning Flat, after two before they got there and for Jack the drive from the diner had taken forever, while for Ennis forever hadn't been long enough. The knot in his stomach tied tight again now, he slowed to a stop and sat there in his truck, Jack ahead of him, already out towards the door and looking back, waiting.

Ennis sat for a minute and looked out, saw nothing between the lonely house and the distant horizon but the dirty-brown plains, green speckled, vast and beautiful in their own bleak way. He jumped out of the cab, smiled nervously at Jack and followed him inside where they were met awkwardly by Eleanor Twist who was washing clothes in the kitchen sink and stopped at the sight of them to dry her hands on the skirt of her grey apron.

"Where'd you two boys get to? We was gettin' worried, Jack…"

"No need, Momma. Jus' some business needed takin' care of, done now an' Ennis'll be stayin' after all." Jack glanced at Ennis then smiled back at his mother.

She turned her eyes on Ennis, something unreadable in her expression. "Your wife's alright is she, Mr Del Mar? Her an' that baby?"

"Uh, she's...uh, jus' fine, but see…there ain't gonna be no baby after all. Seems there was a misunderstandin'."

"Oh, I am sorry," She looked back at Jack, eyes narrowing, noticing the bruise on his face. "Can I get you somethin'? Coffee, some cherry pie I jus' made…"

"We had somethin' on the way here, Ma. Where's Daddy?"

"Gone into town, get some feed and whatnot."

"Right. Well, we'll leave you to what you was doin'."

Jack pushed Ennis towards the staircase, "Go on up, I gotta piss."

And Ennis did, shuffled noisily up the stairs and pushed open the door to Jack's bedroom, maybe his bedroom now. He sat on the bed and saw clothes tangled on the floor by the curtained closet, realised again that he had nothing of his own here, just the shirt on his back that smelled now of smoke and sweat and was, he'd realised when dressing earlier in the day, flecked with tiny red spots that must've come from the bloody spray of Monroe's nose the day before.

Jack appeared at the door then, leaned a shoulder against the chipped paint of the wooden door frame. "Home sweet home, friend."

"That what this is?" Ennis stood up and looked at him, his nose wrinkled and eyes narrowed, looking at Jack like he was some kinda crazy.

"Hell no, Ennis, but it's what we got for now." Jack came inside and closed the door behind him, hung his hat on a crooked nail and sat down on the bed where Ennis had been, running a hand slowly over his jaw. "Shit, I gotta shave," He looked up at Ennis, turned his face to the side. "Can y'see the bruisin' there?"

Ennis looked at him, reached automatically to touch his face, realised what he was doing and pulled his hand back like he'd been caught touching fire. "Can see it a little, be able t'see it when you shave for sure."

"Ah, fuck it, ain't like they never seen me with bruises before," He threw himself back on the bed and let out an exaggerated sigh. "You jus' gonna stand there all day?"

Ennis sat down beside him, took his hat off and played with it some, felt Jack's hand on his back drawing lazy circles just above his ass and he shifted away from his touch. "Not here Jack, I told ya a'ready."

"Shit, I know," He sat up, boots tapping the wooden floor. "I'm gonna go shave, then I'll show you 'round out back, see the horses and heifers."

Ennis nodded soberly as Jack got to his feet. "Jack," he started, embarrassed to be asking but nothing else he could do. "I ain't got nothin' here with me, got blood here on this shirt, an' don't seem right…"

"Plenty clothes right there, friend," Jack cut him off, waving a finger at the general direction of the closet and the bag that lay open at the foot of it. "You don't have t'ask, Ennis, ain't nothin' I got now that I don't plan on sharin' with you." He smiled and opened the door to leave, gave him a wink. "You pick out somethin' nice an' I'll see you in a li'l while."

Ennis smiled to himself and pulled back the curtain covering the closet, eyed the tangled shirts on the floor inside and saw something that looked familiar. He picked them up and tentatively peeled denim back to see his own plaid work shirt – long-thought lost, left on Brokeback with his heart – faded some, torn pocket, specked with dried blood gone brown with age. Figured if Jack'd had a shirt of his for all this time, seemed only fair for him to give one of his own back now. Ennis took a rounded wire hanger from the rail and placed the two tangled shirts on it before digging through the bag on the floor, finding a plain blue shirt that seemed fine and changing into it quickly, afraid of being caught with his shirt off in Jack Twist's bedroom, especially by Jack himself.

Jack had returned to find Ennis, clean shirt on, smoking by the window and they spent the afternoon out on the land of the tired old ranch. The outbuildings all looked like a good gust of wind would send them flying and the few heifers looked scrawny and underfed. Jack told him that his Daddy'd almost run this place into the ground since he'd moved to Texas, refusing to hire hands, laying guilt on him for not coming out to help more, felt he'd run it down just so he'd still have something to blame him for, even seven hundred miles away.

They were back in the house when John Twist returned. He said nothing to greet them, asked if dinner was ready and his wife replied, "Coupla minutes," and he shuffled out back to wash up before eating.

They sat in strained silence around the kitchen table for dinner, breaking it only to say a prayer of thanks for the food. The prayer made Ennis feel more like the sinner he was so he held his head low, eyes lower still and they all went on to eat without another word.

Eleanor stood to clear the table and Ennis offered, "Thanks Mrs Twist."

"Yeah, was real good Ma, thanks," Jack joined in.

"Glad you boys liked it, cherry pie still t'come, I jus' made it today," She replied, and let silverware clatter in the sink. "Nothing more warm an' welcoming than a nice piece of cherry pie."

Ennis wrung his hands and looked nervously at Jack, whose silence made him even more uneasy. Jack cleared his throat then and looked at his Daddy. "Got us both here now, we can get t'work first thing, jus' let us know what needs done."

Ennis noticed the difference in Jack around him, didn't like it one little bit, and he watched as John Twist finally lifted his eyes from the table, set them square on him.

"Ennis Del Mar, he said to us. Fixin' t'come up here an' lick this place inta shape 'fore winter. And here you are," He paused, took accusing eyes off Ennis and looked at the coffee he was swirling in the chipped blue mug in his hand before tipping his head towards Jack. "Think you was somethin' special, the way this one talked."

Dumbstruck, Ennis couldn't think of a damned thing to say to that. Jack looked apologetically at him and, shook his head a little, signalling to keep quiet. His Momma set down pieces of warm cherry pie and smiled at them like she hadn't heard a thing.

"You grow up on a ranch like this, Mr Del Mar?"

"No ma'm, not 'xactly. And it's Ennis, please."

Jack spoke up, "His folks died when he was just a kid."

"Oh. Sure can't've been easy on you," she said and sipped coffee, no pie for her.

Ennis chewed on a sweet mouthful and answered, wishing for the silence they'd had before. "No point dwelling on these things too much."

Jack's Daddy spoke with his mouth half full, "Heard your wife ain't expectin after all."

"No sir," he replied, not looking up from his plate, his foot tapping nervously against his chair leg.

"Got other kids?"

"Two girls." Ennis looked up, half-smiled at him.

"I got a grandson I ain't ever seen. Guess I won't never see him now, neither."

"John…" Eleanor spoke, a quiet protest, wasted on him.

"Now, tell me this. How come you boys can father children but ain't neither one of you man enough to keep a woman?"

Neither answered and Eleanor, too, stayed quiet. John Twist gave a bitter laugh and left the table, headed upstairs on his own.

Ennis was glad to be out of that house and into the dusky air, even if it was still on John Twist's land. Dinner had been as bad as expected, worse even, and Jack felt bad for putting Ennis throught it - knowing it was bad enough for him and he was used to his father's cutting words and accusing eyes from years of the same. They said nothing, waited until they were across the yard at the back and inside the barn that housed the horses.

"You alright?" Jack asked him, concern in his voice, and raised a hand to stroke his hair.

"Better now."

"My Daddy's an asshole, would argue black was white if you was fool enough t'start with him." Jack sidled up close to him, pushing lightly, brought them hip-to-hip. "Don't pay him no mind. I sure didn't, an' I turned out jus' fine."

"You think?"

"You seem t'like how I turned out…" Jack leaned forward, kissed him quick and soft.

Ennis sighed, "Gotta say, I can't see much o'you in neither of 'em."

"Am I t'take that as some kinda compliment?"

"Take it any way y'please."

"We'll be outta here soon enough," Jack promised and kissed him again, longer this time, and Ennis responded even though he knew he shouldn't. Jack pulled back and slid suddenly to his knees, sinking into damp straw, Ennis's button fly was yanked open and his rising cock set free from the it's denim confines and out into the cool air before he had time to protest. He meant to tell him to stop, but Jack's mouth covered him, his tongue searing lines on his dick as it flicked out and across the sensitive skin, so hot and soft. Ennis let his head fall forward to look on at him and laced fingers through his hair. _Just a minute more,_ he thought, _and then I'll stop him_…But he was lost to it, that feeling, the soft sound of it, the sight of it; Jack's hungry mouth taking him in, more warm and welcoming that his Momma's cherry pie.


	11. Chapter 10

**Go Fish – Part Ten.**

_"Shit, Ennis – this ain't no sleepover. Let me in there," Jack leaned down towards Ennis, poked a hand inside the bedroll and continued, his voice a hushed whisper in tone but not a decibel quieter than it ever was. "Nobody'll walk in here an' I know you gotta be feelin' as lonely down there as I am up here."_

_Ennis sighed loud and spoke quiet, "'Nother coupla nights alone in there ain't gonna kill ya. Lucky I'm even in here."_

_"Don't see the point in waitin' now, Ennis. I don't care no more." Jack's cool hand found Ennis's bicep and gave it a pleading squeeze. "'Sides, nights is gettin' damn cold an' we always did manage t'keep warm in there t'gether."_

_Ennis gazed up at him through a whiskey-haze while he spoke, giving in to those pleading eyes; saw no point himself in waiting another two nights after a week being together but keeping apart. Hell, if they were in the same room they might as well be under the same covers. Fuck John Twist Senior, he thought, smiling on the inside but showing none of it,Don't plan on ever seein' the ol' bastard again after Tuesday. "If it'll make you shut the fuck up, then jus' get in here," Ennis turned away from him, hidden smile creeping it's way onto his lips. "But keep y'r hands to y'rself now."_

_"You sure have a high opinion o'yourself, Del Mar." Jack dropped down on top of the bedroll, stretched his arm up to the crooked wall-lamp above the bed and a light tug on the little cord that hung from it left them in darkness. Ennis felt Jack squirm beside him, still atop the canvas. Felt the clumsy kick of long legs and knew that he was wriggling right out of his drawers before climbing into the bedroll and pressing tight against him, breathing warm breath on the back of his neck, soft dick nestled in his asscrack, but keeping his hands to himself, sure enough._

Past week spent on that sorry old ranch hadn't been easy for either one of them. Jack's Daddy was a mean son of a bitch, made them work hard and did his damnedest to make any other time they had harder still. Pa Twist had set it out clear from the start: "This one," he'd said, pointing a bony finger at his only son, "didn't bring you here for no vacation. You're here t'work an' while you're under my roof an' on my land that's jus' what you'll be doin'." First day, morning after the night when Jack's mouth had found him in the secrecy of the barn and he'd slept curled on the small couch in the Twists' living room, the jobs had been dished out and Ennis'd felt like he was back in Aguirre's trailer.

"You," the old man said, with a nod of his head towards Ennis, "Can take care a out back. Land needs cleared, fencing put right, you worked a ranch 'fore, right?"

"Yep," he replied, casting his eyes up for a quick moment.

"All his life," Jack added, smiling by his side, hat in hand.

His old man looked unimpressed. "Well, get to. Cutters an' the like in the shed, far right. Don't 'spect I need t'be watchin' over ya." Ennis said nothing, made his way hurriedly out of the house and away from that man's uneasy stare, heard the clunk of Jack's footsteps following him and then the "Not you, boy," that stopped him in his tracks. Ennis kept on and, as he twisted the handle and shuffled out the door, heard John repeat that this wasn't gonna be no vacation, sounded like he meant it. _So much for working together and sleeping together. _

Accustomed to working alone and never a problem with following orders, Ennis set to work, soon found that the land they held was bigger than it first looked; grazing space that hadn't seen livestock in years stretched back a ways towards the flat horizon, overwhelmed now by scorched wheatgrass and scattered patches of sagebrush. That day had felt to Ennis like half-dream, half-nightmare. There he was, newly shacked up with Jack, but without the freedom to enjoy it – nothing like the Brokeback days he'd spent years pining for. He knew that this was how it'd have to be from now on in, no matter where they were that wasn't behind a locked door or high on a mountain - a different life with the same secret to keep - and he already felt he'd miss the ease of having a wife, the comfort of the pretence. He felt just as lonely that day as he had in any other that'd gone before, coulda been working any old ranch job, and wondered for a short, stinging moment if this hadn't all been one big mistake. He managed to shake that feeling off like a dog shakes off water; knew Alma had seen what she's seen and that would've changed everything anyway he played it. Mistake already made.

John Twist had appeared late that same morning, jarring him from his thoughts and the steady rhythm of hammering wire into wood. He appeared just as the clouds turned slate grey, rolling low and fit to burst, and Ennis had thought, in a rare moment of hope, that he was being moved inside to work alongside Jack, out of that damp wind. He squinted at him, nodded his head in salute, and wiped dirty hands, bloody form barbed-wire nicks, on his jeans.

"Here," John grunted and threw a brown paper sack down at his feet. "Eleanor sent lunch for ya. Y'can eat it out here."

"Thanks," Ennis muttered, crouching to pick up the bag, just avoiding a spray of the old man's spit as he did. Eyes rested on him then; a lingering narrow-eyed look that said what he had to say before the words came.

"I know your type, Del Mar. Ain't got me fooled. Don't think I don't know. " He spat again and turned on his boot heel, ambled back towards the house without a backward glance. Ennis let the bag fall to the ground - appetite all but gone - and kicked it across the grass and into the brush at the far corner of the field. He sat for a while, tugging at handfuls of grass, cursing under his breath, angry and feeling branded by that man's eyes on him, felt the unspoken word scorched into his skin: _Queer_. He let the rage simmer in him for a while but gave in to an empty belly before long, got up to retrieve the bag from where it'd landed, knew he couldn't leave it there for long or there'd be critters all over it. He reached down toward the small shrub, pushing back a dry branch, sending wilted leaves dancing as he did, and uncovered a single patch of penstemon hidden in that corner, like it was hiding, still flowering way out of season. The small round petals, vivid blue, seemed to calm him, reminded him of Jack's eyes: soft and bright and alive. Ennis let the branch fall and cover the secret blooms, sat with his back against a crooked fencepost, hat low over his eyes, and pulled a sandwich from the bag. As he ate, he wondered how something so artless and beautiful had ever managed to survive in a place like this. Couldn't help wonder the same about the penstemon.

_They lay spooning in silence for a little while; sleep feeling to Ennis as far off as a life without a care. He nuzzled the bedroll, the smell of it – musky with a sweet, damp edge like mountain grass – took him back to the last time they'd shared it back in June and he knew, soon as he'd had it, that thought would be his undoing. He fidgeted some, craned his neck to see if Jack was still awake and, in response, Jack pressed closer still, whispered in a low, sleepy voice, "See? Nice an' warm in here now, friend," and nudged his hips forward in several shorts thrusts, still not a hand on him._

_"Jack…" Not much of a protest as he arched his back involuntarily, pushing his ass back, tight against Jack's growing erection._

_"Hush now," Jack breathed into his ear, soft lips grazing a lobe, sending a shiver through him that raced from his head to his toes, lingering longest somewhere in the middle. "I'm keeping my hands t'myself."_

_Ennis moaned at that, a small sound from the back of his throat, an felt Jack shift, pull his hips back, and the length of his stiff dick drew a line there, prodding the soft flesh of his ass as Jack rolled onto his back. The sound that followed was the soft scratch of skin against cloth; Jack's hand moved rhythmically and his breath grew quick, nothing he could see from his position but no description required. His own cock was standing to attention now, and he told himself again that he didn't want to get into this here – was risky enough those nights out in the barn – but his judgement was clouded by the booze they'd shared in celebration of the day, the fierce ache in his balls not helping. He turned, barely the outline of Jack was visible in the dense dark of the room, but Ennis knew too well the look that'd be on Jack's face, drew it from sweet savoured memory; head back, mouth open, tongue tracing wet lines on his bottom lip, and his blue eyes lidded but open, looking up at him through the brush of dark lashes._

_"C'mon, Ennis - don't remember sayin' nothin' 'bout you keepin' your hands t'y'rself," he gasped low, shallow breaths punctuating the words, and reached to grab Ennis's hand._

Ennis was glad to be kept busy while he was there - no stranger to the sweat and blood of hard work - the sting of torn hands and dull ache in his back kept his mind focused on the job; not on the past, not on the future. They were kept, all those days, at what John Twist must've thought was a safe distance from each other. Any time there was a two-man job to be done, he'd make sure he was one of the men doing it, other times he'd stand guard over them, tongue cracking like a whip, words stinging. Got so that neither of them minded, both knew, even if the old man didn't, that there was no distance safe enough – seven hundred miles couldn't do it and neither could an empty stretch of land or steep staircase. Those days made the nights sweeter: they'd share secret looks – never more than that in the house - that could redden Ennis's face and harden his dick; stole moments in the barn, horses watching or not, one two-man job that John Twist wouldn't ever have a part in.

One week in, just that morning - the invitation to join Jack's folks at church declined, thank you kindly – and the stud duck of the pond had begrudgingly granted them a day of rest. They'd talked about that sweet life Jack had in mind, agreed that this wasn't it, and though it made Ennis nervous as hell – two of them, two guys, buying a place together – he still wanted it, sure of that more now that before. Sure, too, that he wanted to be out there making money to send home to his little girls – didn't plan to make moves to see them for a while, more than a little dust needing time to settle, but sinner though he may well be, he had honour in him, still. They drove up to that place Jack'd heard of - his Momma knew someone's sister who knew the folks that were selling up – close to Billings, further from the border than they thought, Ennis's first time out of state. Most of the two hour drive was interstate, Ennis quiet at he wheel a keyed-up Jack at his side - optimistic and mischievous, both – and they found the little place, though not before asking for directions and taking an off-road detour.

A scrawly, hand-painted For Sale sign signalled the find and they sat in the cab of the truck, looking at it and each other, wondering what to do next. It was a small spread, sure enough; smaller even than the one in Lightning Flat. There were sheep just visible, dirty white and woolly, at the back and the house was flat and wide, single level, paint chipped and peeling, dirty-white like the sheep. Right there before them in stone and timber; a whole world of possibilities, plans fast turning into actions.

"Well, we sittin' here all day?" Jack asked, shit-eating grin on his face, eyes as wide as all outdoors.

"Jus' takin' a look." Ennis paused, weak smile doing nothing to mask his trepidation. "Nice li'l place, huh?"

"Could be, friend. Could be," Jack fussed with the hat on his head, levered the door of the truck open. "You comin'?"

_"Jesus…comin' Jack," Ennis whispered, quite as he could manage, neither of them keeping their hands to themselves now as his stroking hand slowed to a tight grip on Jack's softening cock, smooth and slick with his own seed. They lay wrapped in the bedroll, legs entangled and cocks held in mutual hands. Ennis pushed his face against Jack's neck, wet from his own spit where he'd been kissing, licking, biting just before, muffling the heavy sound of his shallow breath. A fierce heat rose in him; from the soles of his feet that felt like they were on fire, spread through him in flame-like licks, higher and hotter with each long stroke of Jack's hand on his dick until it found a way out, liquid fire pouring into his fist. "Felt hotter'n hell," He whispered to Jack, as his hand slowed and drew away from him. As sleep took him, not so far off after all, he lingered on the thought that heat of hell was something he should get used to. Wasn't going nowhere else._

They'd approached the ranch house, cool dry air swirling around them as they climbed the steps onto the porch, and stopped at the black front door, neither making to knock or holler.

"Well?" Ennis asked, looking at Jack, bag of nerves for no reason at all –_Just a coupla guys lookin' aroun_d, he reminded himself.

Jack knocked finally and a young fella, not as young as them, but still, greeted them with a creak of the door and a "Howdy." Seemed he'd beaten them to it, bought the place four days previous for more than they could've paid for it anyway.

_Ennis woke in the night, never a great sleeper, and anxiety gripped him –Shouldn't be here, he thought, Old man got 'nough against us. Shouldn't be here in this room, in the bedroll with him. But before he could climb out and down the stairs, quiet as a catburglar, Jack stirred, rolled close to him with a sigh he felt warming the back of his neck. Still asleep, Jack hooked a strong leg over his own in what always felt to Ennis like a claiming gesture; pinning him, holding him there to the place and the time and the feeling. Before he'd even realised he was moving, Ennis had stretched his arm back to take hold of Jack's hand and, with fingers clasped together, drew Jack's arm around him, held it to his chest. He remembered lying like this, up on Brokeback, just like this on countless cold nights in the tent with Jack on the QT when he should've been high on the hill with just the sheep and the odd baying coyote for company. It quieted his anxiety, something about the weight and the warmth - familiar and protecting - pushed away the hurt and the stress so it seemed to ebb away as quickly as it had come. Having Jack so close brought back a safe, untouchable feeling. Only time in his whole life he'd ever felt that way was when he'd been huddled side by side in a tent with Jack Twist. It was a feeling he hadn't realised back then would be unique to that time or that person; he'd half-expected to have it again once he came to share a bed with Alma, then longed for it when it never did return. One of many hoped-for feelings he didn't feel with her. Her legs and her arms, too small and thin and smooth; they bore no weight and never felt like they held him anywhere or to anything._

"You hirin' on?" Ennis had asked, taking some initiative, keen to get away from Lightning Flat sooner rather than later.

The man shook his head no, "Don't think I'll be needin' it, not anytime soon. You looking for work?"

"Yeah, somethin' residential or a place cheap enough to buy," Ennis kept on, talked like it was what he'd planned on saying all along. Jack looked on, not used to being the quiet one, amused no end, thought he better get used to being surprised by Ennis Del Mar.

The man in the doorway continued, "Tell you what, place up where I come from – you local boys? – town a Riley, near Hardin, fella running a place there jus' dropped down dead, wife and kid left don't know what t'do with the place. Looking for someone t'run it, maybe even sell up down the line. Looked myself but it was no good for me, need somethin' stable for the kids, so don't rightly know the ins and outs, but worth a try if you're lookin'."

And worth a try it was. They'd taken the name of the place – Meadowlark Ranch – and rough directions, drove straight there, two hours worth of talking about it on the way. After one when they arrived, out of the blue, widow and her sister home and more than a little surprised to see a couple of strangers at the door. They explained how they'd come to know the situation and she'd nodded at the mention of Kent, the name of the fella who'd sent them. She invited them in, told them her son was too young to keep the place ticking over, she wanted him to stay at school yet but wasn't keen on selling as she wanted the boy to have the ranch to go back to. Planned on living with her sister in town and wanted someone to run the place for her, she'd collect a cut of any money made, couldn't guarantee how long the arrangement would go for; she might decide to sell or move back in, depending. Suited them just fine. Asked when they could start.

They agreed on Wednesday that week – the widow, Mrs Decker, would have her stuff cleared out by then. They discussed the finer details over coffee, the two women smiling at them, taken by Jack's easy charm and loose tongue. When asked, Jack told them they were both in the process of divorce, Ennis's more recent – "Found his wife with another man, still sore on it." - and that they were cousins – "More like brothers, Ennis's folks died when he was young so we always been real close." The widow and her sister, Mrs Wiley, listened sympathetically. "Family's important in hard times," Mrs Decker had said, looking at her sister through glassy eyes, "I know that myself."

That settled, easy as pie it'd felt like, they drove back toward the border. Over the moon, both of them, they talked on it, joked and joshed, Ennis acting sore about what he'd told the women about his situation but feeling anything but; felt he could paw the white out of that moon if he wasn't so high over it.

They stopped on the way back for food, washed it down with malt whiskey at a roughneck bar afterwards. Back on the road while they could still see straight enough to drive, Jack took the wheel and found another a route off the interstate, pulled them into a quiet ravine as the sun dipped in the sky, turned the distant hills the colour of ash. Jack clamoured for a kiss or more, Ennis resisting, "Plenty a time for that, soon 'nough," he'd said, smile on his face, couldn't hold his lips straight. "Anyway, now that we's family, I don't know…"

"Ennis," Jack interrupted, pushing himself close. "Ain't you ever heard a kissin' cousins?"

_Morning came and Ennis squinted in the curtain-dimmed light of the room, felt Jack's hand still on him, resting limp and heavy on his belly. He heard footsteps on the stairs outside and rolled tired eyes, hand on head, knowing there'd be questions to come about why he wasn't on the couch, and what if they'd heard something? Brought a stab of senseless fear to his chest that he fought to push down and away: just two more days._

_Jack woke soon after and they dressed, quiet smiles passing between them, Ennis hating the fact that Jack could make him, man and boy, blush pink like a girl with just a look._

_"Tell you what, I been thinkin'," said Jack, tucking in a shirttail._

_"You been thinkin' in yer sleep?"_

_"Fuck you. Serious now Ennis, t'hell with stayin' here another two nights, my old man's made bein' back here hell an' I was here a whole week 'fore you even showed up."_

_"Can't go til Wednesday, that's what she said, ain't got much choice." Ennis said, shrugging his shoulders; the voice of reason._

_"Let's go on up Brokeback for a coupla nights, for ol' times sake. Say our goodbye's to Wyoming for good, I'm thinkin'."_

_Ennis thought about it for a minute, couldn't find a reason not to. "Sure would be nice to get a break 'fore we start at the Meadowlark."_

_"Get your stuff t'gether an' lets get, then." Full of beans now, Jack stepped over the bedroll on the floor and picked up his unpacked bag, still lumpily half filled with clothes._

_"I ain't got no stuff, Jack, 'member?"_

_"Well, looks like you're 'bout ready then. C'mon. Let's break the good news."_

When they went down, together despite Ennis's initial protest – wanted to stay up there, get their stuff together - the Twists were sitting at the kitchen table, coffee on the boil and eggs bubbling on the stove. Jack did the talking, Ennis quiet in his seat, sipping his coffee before it was cool enough to drink. No congratulations or well-wishes on the job front, Jack said they'd be leaving today, going fishing first, neither Eleanor or John said much at all. Breakfast was quiet, but felt no more or less awkward to Ennis than it been the week before. John Twist left first, no goodbye said, just muttered words about going back on promises and as they headed on upstairs to get their things.

Bag on his shoulder, Ennis tying up the bedroll tight on the floor, Jack spoke. "Y'know Ennis, sure wish things had been different first time we'd come down off Brokeback. Know I felt somethin' even then. Shit, more'n a few lives coulda been a helluva lot better. Wish i'd said somethin' at the time."

"Well, y'didn't," Ennis looked down as he tugged on the strap that held the bundle of canvas and down together. That feeling was back in him, something like fear but not so easy to name riding sixty-forty with hope, it tied knots in his stomach that he tried to ignore, knew they would come undone up on the mountain. He stood up, heaved the bundle up in his arms. "An' neither did I, Jack. Let's get goin'."

Jack bounded down the narrow stairs, canvas bag on his back and Eleanor came to say goodbye, put a hand on her sons arm, "You come back soon, both o'you."

They threw Jack's bag in the back of his pick-up, the bedroll and camping gear already there with fishing poles, two, and a creel case.

"Glad y'remembered that fishin' gear this time," Ennis said, sly smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Tell you what, friend," Jack said, lightning a cigarette, eyes narrowed to the morning sun. "You can go fish up there if you want, but I got a better idea."

Ennis got into his own truck, wondered if Jack had packed those shirts from their first time on Brokeback, didn't feel right asking, knew he'd find out soon enough.

~The End~


End file.
